Work Text:
ESPN News @ESPNNews
BREAKING NEWS: Montreal Metros Captain Shane Hollander victim of car accident early this morning in Tampa before tonight’s game. Ambulances arrived on the scene quickly, but his condition is unclear. We are all praying for his speedy recovery.
——
Ilya was in the gym at the rink when he got the call. He had come in an hour before necessary for morning skate, feeling restless and jittery this morning for unknown reasons. Walking Anya hadn’t helped much, and nothing on TV seemed interesting, so he came to workout early. Take his mind off the deep ache he had from not seeing Shane for ten days now, with both of them on practically opposite schedules for home and away games.
He was just finishing a set of squats when his phone rang. He saw Yuna’s name and squinted at it, immediately confused. Yuna called him sometimes, sure, but not usually first thing in the morning. Plus he’d just seen her the other day for dinner at their house.
Ilya’s stomach dropped as he answered the phone.
“Yuna?” he asked.
“Ilya, honey,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. Ilya sat down on the bench, bracing himself. Oh no oh no oh no oh no, his mind echoed. Yuna sniffled and said, “Shane’s been in an accident.”
“What? What kind of accident, is he okay—“
“A car accident, sweetheart. He’s, um,” Yuna paused, sharply inhaling in what Ilya imagined was an effort to stop herself from crying. “He’s alive and stable but we don’t . . . we don’t know much more about his condition.”
Ilya felt the breath rush out of his chest, his heart pause its steady beating as dread filled him. “Where . . . where is he now? Tampa hospital? I will get on a plane, I will—“
“Shhh, honey, calm down,” Yuna soothed, and Ilya let out a sob. Her son was injured and she was still taking the time to calm Ilya down. How did he get so lucky to have her? “We’re having him airlifted back here to Ottawa. The paramedics said he’s stable enough for it, and god knows we can afford it,” Yuna laughed darkly, as relief flooded through Ilya. He was coming here. Shane would be in Ottawa soon. Ilya would be able to seem him, to hold his hand, kiss his nose. “They should be at Ottawa General in about 80 minutes. David and I are getting ourselves together and will leave in a few.”
“Okay — I am . . . I am, fuck,” Ilya cursed, sobs overcoming him. “I am not . . I have morning skate in 15 minutes and I don’t know — what do I say? How can I—“ He felt like he couldn’t breathe, hiccuping sobs wracking through him. Shane was hurt. Shane was hurt and alone right now, and the thought of that made Ilya want to die. He needed to get to the hospital soon, he needed to be there when the helicopter landed. But to leave he had to say something, and what could he say? A family emergency, for what family? What lie could he tell what—
“Ilya, sweetheart, take a deep breath,” Yuna said, interrupting his spiraling thoughts, her voice like a warm cup of tea. “David is talking to Farah right now. She’ll call Weibe on your behalf and say you have an emergency. You don’t have to do anything.”
Ilya shook his head, shutting his eyes against the tears that kept coming. “I am here already, Yuna, I am . . . блядь!” he swore, realizing the boys would start filing in soon, if they weren’t already here. His bag was still in the locker room. He’d have to go in there, he’d have to say something. “I don’t want them to see me like this.”
Yuna let out a long sigh, and Ilya could just picture the look on her face. “I know, honey, I know. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Weibe will tell them the bare minimum.”
Ilya exhaled loudly. The bare minimum. He could do that. “Okay. Yes.”
“Why don’t we come pick you up, okay? I don’t want you driving like this,” Yuna said then, and Ilya hiccuped. She loved him so much it almost hurt. If his mother couldn’t be here with him, Yuna was the best possible substitute.
“Okay, thank you. I — I think that is good idea.”
“We’re about to leave, okay? We’ll be there in 20 and then we’ll go see our Shane, okay?”
“Yes,” Ilya choked out.
“He’s going to be okay, Ilya,” Yuna said, one last moment of comfort, before Ilya hung up the phone. If he stayed on the line, he would only fight back: how do you know? what if he’s not? He didn’t want to fight with her, she didn’t deserve his anger, his fear.
He sent up a quick, silent prayer to his mother, to look over Shane, to protect him if she could, then left the gym.
Most of the guys were already in the locker room, changing into their gear and lacing up skates. “Cap!” Wyatt smiled when he saw Ilya enter. His face quickly fell when he took in Ilya’s red eyes and solemn face. “Shit, Roz, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
The other guys shifted to look at Ilya, echoing Hazy’s questions with concern. Ilya had planned to not say much—just that he had an emergency and was leaving immediately—but upon seeing all their worried faces, he broke down again. The Centaurs cared about him in a way that ran deep. They loved him, and that love was clear as day on their faces.
“Ilya, what’s going on? Did something happen?” Bood said, stepping up and gingerly taking Ilya under his shoulder, guiding him to sit down on a bench.
Ilya sniffled, looking around the room. Young’s brows were furrowed, Dykstra had turned off the music, and Luca had moved to a squat in front of Ilya. The whole team gathered around him in a huddle of worry. “I . . . I have an emergency. I have to leave now.”
“What happened?” Troy asked, not pressing, just genuinely wanting to know.
Ilya swallowed. “My partner. They were in a car accident.”
Holmberg muttered shit. LaPointe’s eyebrows shot up. Chouinard shook his head.
“Roz, I’m sorry, that’s horrible,” Bood said on behalf of the team. “Is it serious? Are they okay?”
Ilya shrugged. “I do not know much. He is . . . stable. That is all paramedics said. I will know more when he gets to the hospital.”
To their credit, no one reacted to the pronoun usage. Ilya wasn’t out with them yet but he knew the team would be supportive of his sexuality. That was never a fear for him. “He’s not at the hospital yet?” Wyatt asked.
Fuck, Ilya said. He shouldn’t have said that. “Ah, no. Accident was not . . . in Ottawa,” he said. “He is being, I do not remember word . . . Flying ambulance. He will be here soon. I need to change, I need to get going—“ Ilya started to stand, but was cut off by gentle pressure from Boyd’s hand on his shoulder.
“Slow down, Cap. Take a deep breath. We just . . . We want to help you, okay? We’re here for you, no matter what.” Bood said, looking into his eyes.
Ilya realized, in that moment, Bood had probably put it together. Male partner, not in Ottawa, car accident. It was pretty obvious. He had no doubt news outlets had already reported the accident during the span of Yuna’s phone call. They probably all saw it, got news alerts for anything hockey related.
Bood was opening a door for him, letting Ilya decide if he walked through it or not. It was the kindest thing he could possibly do, and Ilya felt so damn grateful for Zane Boodram in that moment. Ilya knew he could push past this, just change, get his things, and go. Not answer anymore questions. But something about the opening Bood left, it made him ache with want. He wanted to tell his teammates. He wanted them to know about him and Shane, wanted them to understand the scope of his situation right now. He didn’t want to lie anymore.
Shane might hate him for it, but it didn’t matter in that moment. Ilya needed to say it, to come clean. If only to selfishly have a brief respite from hiding and lying, to just feel known, completely, by his team, in his moment of need.
“Yeah, Roz, we love you,” Luca echoed, and Ilya felt tears welling up in his eyes once again.
“Thank you,” Ilya said, taking a deep breath. “You are all best teammates I could have asked for.” He stood up, swiping his hands under his eyes to clear the remaining tears. “My partner . . . he is probably going to kill me for telling you but I don’t think I can lie anymore. Please do not tell anyone. It is big secret for many reasons.”
A chorus of “of course” and “yes” filled the room. Young even saluted Ilya, which he found oddly adorable.
“We promise, Cap,” Troy says, and Ilya can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s also figured it out, and he will protect this secret as fiercely as his own.
“I am sure you have already heard the news anyway. About car accident with Shane Hollander.” Ilya watched as it clicked for some of them, surprise and understanding washing over their faces, but no disgust. Never disgust, not with the Centaurs
Chouinard nodded. “Yeah, we saw. Roz . . . is Shane boyfriend?”
“Yes,” Ilya exhaled, the relief rushing through him.. “He is why I came to Ottawa. He is . . . he is my everything,” Ilya admitted, choking on the last word.
“Okay, then,” Dykstra said definitively, holding up Ilya’s bag, which he’d somehow managed to sneakily grab. “Go get changed out of your gym clothes. Let’s get you to the hospital.” Dykstra tossed the bag in Ilya’s direction and he grabbed it. Ilya let out a half-laugh, half-sob at that. “You are not mad?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. He needed to hear it, to be reassured.
“Only thing I’m mad about is that you managed to pull the hottest guy in the league and I can barely get a tinder date,” Young joked, the guys laughing lightly. Ilya was grateful for the break in tension.
“Of course Golden Boy Shane Hollander is going to date the only person remotely close to as talented as him at hockey,” Hazy added.
“Okay but seriously, Rozy, how the hell are you good enough for Hollander?” Boyle chirped as Ilya slipped into a fresh pair of sweats.
“I am not,” Ilya smiled sadly, pulling off his shirt. “But I am trying to be.”
He retied his shoes and Luca came up beside him, shoving a protein bar in his hand, which he took gratefully. He would likely forget to eat at the hospital. “He will be okay, Roz.”
“Yeah, Hollzy’s a fighter,” Bergy agreed.
“He’s probably already asking the paramedics to take him back to Tampa so he can play tonight,” Troy joked.
Ilya smiled at that. It was freeing to talk about Shane in the open like this, despite the circumstances. Ilya felt free.
He grabbed his jacket and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Thank you, boys. I will text you when I know more. I don’t know when I’ll be back but—“
“Go, Roz. Seriously,” Bood said, gently shoving him towards the door. “Check on your man. We’ve got you.”
Ilya just gave him a tight-lipped smile of gratitude in return, before walking on the door. He went around to the front of the arena and only had to wait a few minutes before Yuna and David pulled up in their SUV. Yuna got out of the passenger seat and engulfed Ilya in a hug. He collapsed against her, relishing the hug for a few seconds, before they both got into the car and headed to the hospital.
————
hours later
Ilya: hi everyone. shane is doing okay. he has lots of injuries and will be out for rest of season….but he is stable and doctors are hopeful about his recovery. thank you for today. you are the best team in the league, even if our game stats don’t say so.
Bood: Glad to hear it, man! Give Hollzy our best. Take as much time as you need; we will hold down the fort till you’re back.
Hazy: You seriously had to drag us in the same text as updating us about your injured boyfriend??
Ilya: yes, obviously. is important to remind team that we need to do better next game now that you know who my hot, sexy, VERY talented boyfriend is. must impress him.
Barrett: were hot AND sexy really necessary?
Dykstra: oh god, boyfriend-Roz is about to be even more insufferable than regular Roz, isn’t he?
Young: glad you’re in a good enough mood to joke, cap!
Young: (and yeah, probably)
Barrett: let us know if we can bring anything by — food, meals, whatever.
Ilya: thank you. we are okay for now. shane is asleep now which is good. david went to get anya and bring her to hotel, and yuna is grabbing us dinner
Ilya: [picture of Ilya pressing a kiss to an asleep Shane’s forehead. Shane has a few bandages on his face, and a tube in his nose.]
Haasy: aww!
Bergy: is he going to kill you for sending us that photo cap??
Ilya: oops. did not think that through. too happy to see my shane is okay.
Ilya: please delete from your phones!!!
LaPointe: “my shane” man is down BAD
Chouinard: yeah, dysktra, we’re unlocking new levels of insufferable with this new information
Ilya: THAT’S HOMOPHOBIC!
Barrett: Ilya dude….
Ilya: I am allowed to make gay jokes, now, troy! you are not only gay on the team!
Bood: of course even while at the literal hospital, Roz is being annoying in the group chat
Ilya: it is my coping mechanism ;)
Ilya: but seriously, thank you boys. it is nice to not have to lie about this anymore.
Hazy: love you Roz!!!!
Barrett: ^^^
Haasy: tell Shane we love him too when he wakes up!!
Bergy: have you ever even spoken to him off the ice, Haasy?
Haasy: no but he’s kind of like our Step-Captain now, right? honorary centaur?
Ilya: i will tell him. he will like that.
Ilya: may not be "honorary" for long
Bood: WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN???
Hazy: Roz man you cannot just leave us like that
Dykstra: HELLO??
Boyle: @Roz what the fuck???
Bergy: I might pass out