Work Text:
Ilya did not feel like spending his off day running errands. His head was buzzy and all he wanted to do was rot in his ridiculously large bed with all the pillows and using Anya as a weighted blanket and watching trash tv. But Shane had a list and he had offered to do it all himself but when Shane had asked him if he wanted to join, Ilya found it impossible to say no. Galina had also challenged him to getting outside more when he felt too in his head.
“It’ll be good to get out of the house,” Shane said, resting the palm of his hand on Ilya’s thigh as they pulled out of their driveway. Ilya put his head back on the seat rest and closed his eyes. It was obnoxiously bright out even through his dark sunglasses.
“First stop is getting Anya’s food,” Shane said. So they did. They went to the specialty pet store. (“Anya needs the best, Shane. Not peasant dog food.”)
Then they went to pick up their dry cleaning, the post office to check fan mail and the grocery store for staples they were running low on.
Ilya sighed for no particular reason. Just basic tiredness. Shane noticed. “Ready to go home?” Ilya nodded. Then he remembered. “Fuck.” He rubbed at his face.
“What is it?” Shane asked.
“I forgot that I am low on my meds. I needed to put in for refill.”
Shane reached across the console and rubbed at Ilya’s left ear. A comforting tactic for Ilya. “Already done.”
Ilya eyed him. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you were running low and I was able to put in a refill for you. I didn’t think I could because they’re under your name but the pharmacist said couples do it all the time.”
Ilya gave a tired smile at his husband. He felt the heavy weight of decision fatigue melt off his shoulders. “Thank you, solnyshko.”
“It was even on my list. So let’s go pick them up and then maybe we get ice cream on the way home.”
They pulled into the pharmacy. Shane went to get out, but Ilya grabbed his hand, stopping him. “Stay. They are my responsibility. I can at least go get them.”
Ilya walked up to the front of the pharmacy where a sign said “pick up”. He waited patiently in line, still floating off the idea that Shane had done this for him. He wasn’t surprised. That was Shane. He was always going out of his way to make sure Ilya was set.
“Name.” The man said in a deadpan attitude. He didn’t make eye contact with Ilya, just stared at the computer. Ilya didn’t need happy-go-lucky customer service but he did like basic human decency.
“Ilya Rozanov,” he gave. “I am here for my re—“
“Date of birth.” The man dead panned again, interrupting him.
Ilya told him and the man typed into the computer. Then he went back into the aisles carrying all the prescriptions. Ilya shoved his hands in his jean pockets. A line was forming behind him now. He just wanted to get ice cream with his husband and go home. It took the man a long time to come back, but he eventually did.
He came back with the familiar bottle Ilya had grown to know. He scanned the bottle and Ilya just needed to sign for them. As he was signing, the man said, “So what the hell is the famous Ilya Rozanov doing taking anti depressants? Sad about not getting enough Cups? Didn’t score a hat trick one night? Maybe learning English is too hard, huh?”
The comment completely knocked Ilya off his already vulnerable state. Any other good day he would’ve knocked his teeth out. Maybe in his earlier years when he was a hot head. Now with years of therapy under his belt and current plain exhaustion mind and body, Ilya took the comment and his meds and backed away. He backed up too much and accidentally knocked into a woman and her baby. The baby dropped their toy on the ground.
“I am sorry.” Ilya grabbed the toy from the ground and handed it back to the woman. She smiled graciously but it just added more to Ilya’s growing list of overwhelm.
Ilya opened the passenger side door and sank down into the seat. Shane closed TikTok from mindless scrolling. “That took a minute. Everything okay?”
“Maybe no ice cream. Let’s just go home.”
Shane furrowed his brows. “Are you my husbands evil twin because my husband never passes up ice cream.”
Ilya stayed quiet. “Just tired, I think.” Shane eyed him but then put the car in drive. They drove in silence. Ilya should tell Shane. He was working at being better than that. “The pharmacy guy,” Ilya said finally after they pulled into the garage. “He made a comment.”
Shane fully turned to his husband from the drivers seat. “What sort of comment?”
“He asked me why thee Ilya Rozanov was taking anti depressants. He asked me if I was sad because I didn’t win cups or hat tricks. Then he made a comment about my English.” He waved it all off. “It was stupid. I don’t really care but I wanted to at least tell you.”
Ilya went to get out of the car but Shane stopped him. “Wait, are you fucking serious right now? Are you fucking joking?”
“It doesn’t matter. I have my meds and I just want to cuddle my husband and my dog and forget about it.” Ilya got out of the car, slammed the door (in a tired way, not a mad at Shane way) and went inside.
No way in hell Shane was going to forget about it. No fucking chance. Shane could feel his blood boil still parked in his garage he white knuckled the steering wheel. He should absolutely go back to the pharmacy and make a scene. Right? He should go back, demand to speak to the person in charge and then demand consequences.
He should. He would.
But he would go inside first and take care of Ilya. Which is what he did. He found Ilya upstairs in their bed. The blackout curtains were drawn, Anya cuddled into him and the tv volume on low.
Shane went over to Ilya’s side and bent down to him. He rubbed his arm and then put his fingers through his curls. “I’m sorry that happened to you. You didn’t deserve-“
“Shane, it’s fine. I want to forget it.” Ilya pulled a pillow over his face. Shane gently peeled it back.
“No. This is not some chirping on the ice, Ilya. This was a professional who has an ethical obligation to you. He was completely out of line and I’m not going to let him get away with it. If he was like this with you, who else is he like this with?”
“Maybe he is just a Montreal fan,” Ilya said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Maybe he’s a fucking asshole who needs his license revoked and his lights knocked out. In that order. How about that? I can do both no problem.”
Shane got up, not knowing what to do with all his blood still boiling.
“How many pills do you have left, before we got the refills?”
Ilya shrugged. “Like 3 days?”
“I don’t want you taking the refills, okay? I don’t trust that asshole.”
“Shane,” Ilya groaned. “He was not like that.”
“Oh yeah, and what was he like Ilya? Between insulting your mental health or insulting your intelligence by knowing a second language? I’m sure he’s a stand up guy.”
Shane watched Ilya’s face drop. Not in a sudden way. In a way that his mind was working at sabotaging him— quiet and little kid like which made this even more personal for Shane.
He crawled into bed and gently but with control took Ilya’s jaw in his hands. His thumb traced his husband’s tired eyes. “Your mind can make allll the excuses it wants for this, but I’m not. He had an obligation and failed. I have an obligation and it’s making sure assholes like him don’t fuck with my husband. And we know I don’t fail, do we?”
Ilya held back tears in his eyes and took a deep breath. “I do know that, moya lyubov.”
“It’s settled then. I’m making some calls.”
It dawned on Ilya. “You are calling Yuna, aren’t you?” Anya’s head whipped up and she cocked her head to the side.
Shane kissed Ilya sweetly and then climbed out of bed. He fluffed Ilya’s pillow and tucked him further into bed. “You bet your ass I am.”
Ilya settled Anya back into his ribs where she liked to lay. She gave him a kiss on his nose. “I think we need to stay here where it is safe, moy malysh.”
Yuna knew what to do in every situation. She had always had a steady hand. She was a spitfire but when contracts needed negotiations or sponsors came calling with shit offers, Yuna calmly delivered with poise and precision. She had been working with the best of the best in the NHL world so she knew how to hold herself in every room. It was fun for her.
So when her son called as she was leaving a meeting (scoring a deal with Calvin Klein, thank you very much 💅 ) and told her about what happened, her first spitfire, but calm words were:
“Oh, you’re fucking serious? Absolutely fucking not. Give me names. I need badges. What’s the pharmacy?”
Shane sighed, leaning into the kitchen counter. He told her everything he knew, which wasn’t much given Ilya was the one who had dealt with it. “It’s taking everything in me not to go back there and-“
“Oh, you’re going back there,” Yuna said matter of factly. “This is what’s happening.” See? Yuna always knew what to do. “I’m going to call the lawyers and see what they can do. They’re going to draft up articles to get that man’s license revoked which will get him fired. He’ll be dragged through the disciplinary committee and never wished he even went into that profession. What’s your plan?”
“I was going to go back there and punch his fucking face in and then not sure after that, honestly.” Shane started to pace. The further this went on, the further he couldn’t sit still. “That’s why I called you.”
“Well, by the time you get there and do that, I’ll have lawyers ready so let’s see some pep, hup two.”
“Wait, you’re actually supporting me going down there and punching him? I’ll get in trouble with the league.”
“You won’t get in trouble with the league. You’re Shane Hollander. Act like it. If you don’t, I will. I’ll even bring dad with me. Shane, get your ass down there. And for the sake of legality, this conversation never happened. And Shane,” Yuna said.
“What?”
“Don’t start it, but you can finish it.”
They hung up and Shane made his way back upstairs to Ilya. His face was cuddled into Anya, lightly snoring. Good. Shane took pride in knowing Ilya was getting any semblance of relief from his awakened mind.
He bent down and planted a kiss on Ilya’s temple and then pushed his curls from his face. Ilya stirred, but didn’t wake. Shane went to exit the bedroom when he heard Ilya. “Where are you going now solnyshko?”
Shane shushed him. “Nothing you need to worry about. Go back to sleep, my love.”
Shane reversed out of the driveway thinking of how this would go. Did he wait in line to make a scene? Did he ask for the manager and then make a scene? Maybe he was the manager. He didn’t even know what the guy looked like. Shane had punched plenty of guys on the ice and it was always in the heat of the moment. This was different— off the ice and working up to it.
Shane entered the pharmacy. He figured it would be easier to scope out the place first. He aimlessly walked the aisles closest to the “pick up” area. His eyes glanced from products on the shelf to eyeing what was happening behind the counter. He strained to listen to conversations happening between the techs.
There were two men and a woman. It wasn’t the woman so it lowered his choices. Of the two men, one was older—grey haired and retirement aged. Maybe that was the actual pharmacist he had spoken to on the phone about filling Ilya’s script. The other one was younger, younger than Shane. Like a Luca Haas young.
“Chuck, take your fifteen,” the older man said.
“Finally,” Shane heard him say. Yeah, that had to be him. Shane watched Chuck take a door in the back that led to the outside.
Shane put whatever product he had picked up to blend in with the crowd back on the shelf and headed for the exit. He remembered what his mom said about not starting it. He just needed to finish it.
Shane followed the direction of the building, weighing the parking lot. It wasn’t busy and he doubted anyone was in the back except for fucking Chuck.
Chuck leaned his foot back against the brick wall of the building, smoking a cigarette. He took a drag and then exhaled. Shane flexed and unflexed his dominant hand walking up to him. Chuck glanced in his direction.
“Holy shit, Ilya Rozanov and now Shane Hollander in one day. To who do I owe this honor?” Chuck put his free hand over his chest in a mocking gesture.
Shane took a step closer to him, eyeing him down. Chuck’s face dropped, the teasing-ness of his comment evaporating through the air. He pushed off the wall so he could stand face to face with Shane. Shane was easily a couple inches taller than him, staring him down.
“I think we both know why I’m here,” Shane said.
Chuck snickered, looking off into the distance. “Actually, I don’t. I can’t discuss anything with you. Ya know,” he leaned in close to Shane, now meeting his glare and took a long drag of the rest of his cigarette. Then he blew the smoke into Shane’s face. “Patient privacy laws and all that.”
Shane took a step to avoid the smoke but more so because he knew he needed more room to throw his fist. Don’t start it Shane, just end it.
“Right.” Shane nodded, placating him. “Privacy.”
“Yeah, when I saw Ilya come in, I knew I needed to preform my professional duties to let him know that his depression is really serious. Not made up, ya know?”
CRACK!
Shane’s fist met Chuck’s cheek instantly. The sound made a fleshy sound and it knocked Chuck flat on the asphalt. He didn’t have time to register his dilemma when Shane scurried to straddle and hold him down against the concrete.
“What the fuck?! You fucking faggot, get off me!” Chuck said, his cheek bloodied.
CRACK!
Another blow to his cheek. Shane grabbed Chucks collar of his pressed, white lab coat that was now covered in blood splatter. Shane caught sight of his badge and smirked. “Big talk for a pharmacy tech, don’t you think?” Shane said, comfortably having the high ground. He still gripped at Chuck’s lab coat.
And out of anything that could’ve happened, Chuck laughed. “You know I was a Metros fan before you fucking left. Good, didn’t need you anyway. Didn’t need you and your gay ass—“
CRACK!
“Listen to me because I’m only going to say this once, Chuck. You can insult my sexuality or my hockey skills but as sure as fuck you’re not going to insult my family. You picked the wrong fucking person to mess with. I’ll make it my whole damn personality that you lose your job and won’t even be qualified for a fucking Tim Hortons. I’ll make it my life’s mission to make sure you regret your every waking decision, do you understand me?” He pulled Chuck closer by his collar and eyed him through his blood.
All Chuck had to offer was huffing through his broken cheek bone. Then Shane leaned in closer to whisper in his left ear. “One more thing. Since you have a problem with people speaking English, I’ll help you out.” He switched to French. “Ne prononce pas le nom de mon mari avec ta putain de bouche.” (don’t say my husband’s name with your fucking mouth 👄)
Shane gave one last shove to make it official this was over. He raised up and dusted off his hands. That’s when he noticed his knuckles were bleeding. “Shit,” Shane mumbled.
Chuck layed conscious, but motionless. Stunned and adrenaline rushing probably. “You’re going to regret this,” he mumbled through his pain.
Shane grinned. “Keep talking and I’ll keep fucking up your face.” He caught a glance at the cigarette that had fallen to the ground, still smoke rising from the end. He saw the sign on the building. “By the way, you’re not supposed to smoke here, fucking idiot.”
Shane left him on the ground. He went back inside to the pharmacy, not quite finished. He stomped to the counter. Behind the counter was the old man pharmacist. He held the phone to his ear and he sounded disheveled.
“Yes, Mrs. Hollander. I- I completely understand. This won’t happen again.” Shane held his bloodied hand with his other and smiled, knowing his mom was on the other end. “Absolutely. I will absolutely take care of this.”
Shane waited for the man to hang up. The man rushed over to Shane once he saw his ailment. “Mr. Hollander if this has something to do with Chuck, I will call the police.”
Shane laughed. “Fucking do it. I’ll make sure to tell them all about the shit show you’re running here. I need a bandage. Can I have one or do you need to take a page out of Chuck’s book first, question if I’m actually fucking bleeding, huh?” The man stared agape but Shane still had adrenaline pulsing through his veins. “Bandage! Now.” The man jumped into action.
By the time Shane made it out of the pharmacy, Chuck was no longer there. Shane didn’t care. He felt fucking high, like he could do a thousands laps around the arena and still not be tired.
Shane drove down the busied streets of Ottawa when an ice cream place came into view. He hit a quick left turn and found himself in the drive thru ordering a large double chocolate.
Back at home, Ilya heard the garage door open and close and then the door and then steps up to their bedroom. Shane came strolling into their bedroom with his hands behind his back, grinning a stupid grin on his face.
Ilya narrowed his eyes at Shane’s out of place behavior. “What is happening? What did you do?”
Shane produced a large ice cream cup of double chocolate in front of Ilya’s face. But then he saw the bandage. “Solnyshko, this looks very suspicious.”
Shane shrugged, still grinning like a cat with a bird in its mouth. “No suspicion. I made sure my family was taken care of, okay? Here.” He pushed the ice cream into his husband’s hands. “You didn’t get to enjoy this earlier. Chuck ruined it.”
“Who the fuck is Chuck?” Ilya said, scrunching his nose.
“A metros fan.” Shane stripped so he could shower.
Ilya shook his head, taking a bite of ice cream. "I fucking knew it."
After Shane showered, he crawled into bed next to Ilya. The empty cup of ice cream sat on the nightstand. Shane ignored that it was probably dripping onto the natural wood.
“Yuna called,” Ilya said, cuddling into Shane’s bare chest. “She said they already set a disciplinary date. She said that no one messes with her favorite son.”
Shane smiled crookedly, curling one of Ilya’s curls around his index finger. “I told you. We make sure our family it taken care of.”
There was a beat of silence and then Ilya whispered. “Thank you, moya lyubov. I could’ve defended myself. I’m just so tired and my head is not good right now.”
Shane gently shushed him. “I know you can defend yourself, but just because you can doesn’t mean you needed to. Let me do it once in awhile.” Another string of silence. “I also want you to know that your depression is not made up. It’s just your brain chemistry. You didn’t deserve that and I will always make sure you know it’s worth fighting for.”
Ilya would’ve crawled under Shane’s skin if he could so he settled for nestling more into his chest. Shane drew circles on his back. “I love you, Shanychka.”
Shane rested his cheek on the top of Ilya’s head. “I love you too, my love. So much.”