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Ilya takes the long way back when he drives home from therapy, his phone connected to his car bluetooth with music coming from the speakers as he drives the road to their house. It’s in part because he needs a moment alone to sort out his thoughts after the exhausting conversation with Galina and in part because he’s embarrassed.
The last few days have been bad. There’s no real reason for it, other than the fact that he was born with a brain that doesn’t work like it should. His mother’s son, in both good and bad.
In theory he should be on top of the world right now. He’s married to the love of his life, he has a job that he loves with a team that feels like a family, and now with Shane in the team, their odds for the Cup look even better than before. He should be happy but he’s not and it’s frustrating. It’s frustrating for Ilya and it must be for Shane too. Shane, who’s wonderful and supporting and who never complains or makes Ilya feel like a burden.
And, absurdly, that had been a problem this time.
It took a moment for Shane to notice that Ilya wasn’t feeling great. But once he had noticed, he’d been understanding and accommodating and he’d suggested all the things that they’ve noticed to be helpful before. Calm days, loving words and support in small ways that usually mean the world to Ilya.
This time the dark thoughts had been more persistent, he’d been mentally exhausted and he’d felt bad when Shane’s efforts hadn’t had their usual effect. Shane never stopped trying, switching tactics when Ilya showed no signs of feeling better. Like he really wanted to be there for Ilya in any way he could.
And that had made Ilya feel like he was failing. Shane tried so hard to make him feel better but Ilya couldn’t. He was stuck and he was disappointing Shane over and over again, his loving gestures feeling suffocating rather than supporting. It made Ilya feel ungrateful.
He’d lashed out this morning. For the first time in a really long time he’d yelled at Shane, asked him to give Ilya space and leave him alone. Shane hadn’t yelled back, which had made Ilya feel worse. He’d just apologised and disappeared to their home gym. Ilya hadn’t seen him since, having left for his appointment with Galina shortly after.
The conversation with Galina had pressed at old bruises, tore open wounds Ilya had thought had healed years ago. Not prettily, not without a scar, but enough not to cause pain.
She’d asked Ilya how the people around him usually reacted to his depression and what made this time different. Apart from Shane, Ilya was only able to talk about his family because no one else knows. They hadn’t had the diagnosis back then because there was no way Grigori Rozanov had a son with depression. He had a difficult teenager who needed discipline and who could be lazy at times, just like his mother.
Attitude like that wasn’t cured with coddling.
Days spent in bed weren’t an option when his father was around. Being caught crying earned him a lesson not to show weakness. The kindest words he received were the ones his father would say to other people, when Ilya had won a game or got praise from a coach. At some point Ilya had understood that his father wasn’t proud of him, he was proud of the reputation Ilya had and the glory he was able to bring to their family name.
Him and his brother had been close once, before their mother passed. Her death made them drift apart, then Alexei moved away to study in a different city and Ilya’s success in hockey made his brother resent him. Alexei didn’t know what was happening at home. Ilya knows that had he known, he wouldn’t have cared. He was more like their father that way. Emotions weren’t something to be talked about, they were to be felt alone and suppressed when inconvenient. Like the death of their mother, which Alexei had never brought up after it had happened.
To go from that to the support Shane seems to show so easily, to be treated kindly when Ilya is not being the best version of himself, is a mental whiplash. It makes the past feel more painful and it makes Ilya want to be better now. With proper support he should be better, right? To be mad at that support feels ungrateful. Sometimes he wonders if support like this could have saved his mother. He wonders if he’d be dead without it.
Galina had reminded him about how love is not a magic cure and how he shouldn’t feel like he’s failing when his mind doesn’t react positively to the acts of support he receives. She’d reminded Ilya of how important it is to voice his feelings, even when those words might be difficult to say. They’d spent the rest of the session discussing what Ilya wanted to tell Shane and how he could put his feelings into words. How he could tell Shane what he needed, even when what he needed was for Shane to do less.
When Ilya turns into their street, he’s not feeling much more clear minded than he did when he left therapy. But he also knows that the apology is the first step he needs to take to feel any better.
He goes to drive his car in the garage, next to Shane’s. As he parks, before he turns the engine off, his car lets out a small beep that signals a device connecting to the bluetooth. Ilya’s music stops and instead he hears a female voice from the speakers, speaking clearly.
“...time. Depression can cause the person to be more irritable. Sometimes the best way to support a loved one with depression might mean that you give them space. Don’t leave them alone, especially if you think they might be a danger to themselves. Remind them that you’re there when they need you but don’t push. You can…”
It sounds like an audiobook, the words feeling too measured for it to be a podcast or radio. Dazed, Ilya goes to the bluetooth settings on his car and sees that the bluetooth has connected to Shane’s phone.
The lady keeps talking about the best ways to support someone with depression but Ilya is only hearing half of it. He’s overcome by emotions, tears springing to his eyes and his view of the bluetooth settings blurring.
Shane’s approaching this the way he does about other things that are important to him. Ilya shouldn’t be surprised. He wants to understand, to excel. And he’s doing this even after Ilya had been so mean to him a few hours before. The bluetooth disconnects and goes back to Ilya’s music but he’s not hearing it. He breathes in deep and the inhale shudders. He wipes roughly at his eyes and finally turns the car off.
What did he do, to deserve someone like Shane? Shane has every right to be upset with him, to take Ilya at his word and put some distance between them. Ilya isn’t used to being loved when he’s being difficult.
He wants to calm down before he goes to see Shane but he’s also overcome by a strong need to hug his husband. And he doesn’t think the tears are going to stop anytime soon.
He gets out of the car and into the house. He doesn’t call out for Shane. Instead he walks around until he finds Shane in their bedroom, packing stuff for a game that they have to fly in for tomorrow. He has his headphones on and his back to the door but Anya jumps down from the bed when she sees Ilya arrive. The movement directs Shane’s attention to the doorway.
Ilya bends down to greet Anya but quickly looks back up at Shane. Shane smiles at him a little and pushes his headphones down so they’re around his neck. Ilya straightens back up and sees the moment Shane spots the teary eyes.
“Hey,” Shane says, a frown on his face.
He doesn’t have time to say more before Ilya has crossed the distance between them and he’s buried his face into Shane’s shoulder, his arms tight around his waist. Shane’s arms come up around Ilya like it’s a reflex.
At his spot on Shane’s shoulder, Ilya has his ear close to the headphones where he can hear the faint voice of the woman talking. Ilya pulls back a little so he can take the headphones off and throw them on the bed, just so he can turn his face to Shane’s neck with no clunky headphones in the way.
Ilya sags against him and Shane holds him up, strong, steady and reliable like always. He’s swaying them a little, giving Ilya space to speak when he’s ready.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Ilya murmurs after a while. “You were just trying to help.”
“I’m sorry I pushed,” Shane says. “I’m not good at this yet.”
“You’re great,” Ilya replies immediately, his words coming out rough. He straightens up a little so he can look Shane in the eyes as he speaks. “I guess we’re both learning.”
“Maybe we can learn together?” Shane asks, his expression so earnest it makes something feel tight in Ilya’s chest.
Ilya likes the sound of that. It makes him feel like they’re a team in this, like they are in so many other aspects of their life.
“Yeah.”
Shane reaches up to wipe away the tear tracks on Ilya’s cheeks.”I’m here for whatever you need. Even if what you need is for me to give you more space. I’ll be on standby for when there’s other ways I can help you. Just let me know next time when I’m being too much.”
The words make fresh tears fall down. He doesn’t remember much of what he’d practiced with Galina but he wants to try to explain at least some of what he’s feeling.
Shane’s still moving his thumbs over Ilya’s wet cheeks when Ilya gathers his thoughts enough to speak.
“I love everything you do for me. You don’t have to, but you do, and I see that. I appreciate it all so much. And I want it to work. I want to feel better but sometimes I don’t,” Ilya takes in a deep breath. Shane’s not jumping in to reply. He’s giving Ilya space to continue. Ilya’s eyes lower to Shane’s chin as he keeps talking. “And I’m not used to this. To sharing these moments and having someone make such an effort to make it feel easier for me. And when it doesn’t work, it feels like you’re wasting your time and energy on something that’s not worth-”
“Ilya.”
Shane says his name firmly. A name and an order to stop in one.
Ilya looks up and sees that Shane’s eyes are filled with tears that he’s not letting fall.
“You’re worth all of it and more,” he says. “I don’t claim to understand everything about depression but I know that as much as I’d love to be able to take it away from you, I can’t. And if I can’t do that, the least I can do is be there for you in any way I can. I want to do that. In sickness and in health, Ilya. We’ve been through rough times before. We’ll get through this too. Together. And if you need space, you’ll just have to say a word. I promise not to be offended. I just need to be told, because I fear my first instinct will always be to be near you. Be it a good day or a bad one.”
Ilya bites at his lower lip, the dumb tears continuing to fall. He’s not sure how he has any left.
“Okay.”
Shane draws him in for another hug then and Ilya isn’t sure how long they stay like that. He just knows that eventually the tears slow down and his breathing gets back to normal.
“Do you want to shower?” Shane asks after a while.
Ilya takes stock of the way the dried tears are pulling at the skin of his face and how he feels vaguely sweaty.
“Yeah.”
“Will you let me wash your hair?” Shane’s question is paired with the movement of his hand through the curls at the back of Ilya’s head.
“Please.”
Love is not a magic cure. But it is a soothing balm, one that Ilya is so grateful to have.