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Shane Hollander sat at Ilya Rozanov’s bedside. The flu. It was just supposed to be the flu. A couple days ago- Ilya had started talking about things that weren’t there. He’d called the team doc and been told to not worry. Just keep giving him fever reducers and to call again if his fever went above 40. He’d only spiked to 39.5 but the things Ilya kept saying- the things he was seeing- it killed him to listen. He’d thought about sitting in the living room instead, but Ilya was too unsteady on his feet when he tried to move around to be left alone. So he called his mother and waited. He hoped that she could help him, because he felt completely helpless.
Yuna Hollander let herself into her son’s home- it wasn’t the first time either of them had been sick since they got married. It was the first time she’d heard fear in Shane’s voice when he called to tell her that they were going to miss family dinner this week. When he’d called back a few hours later- she’d already been halfway through making them soup. Ilya was seeing things and Shane was struggling. He didn’t say what Ilya had seen, but she could guess. Ilya didn’t have a happy childhood.
He hadn’t had much stability until Boston- over the years she’d gotten to meet his former teammates. The ones that were pissed that they weren’t invited to their wedding. The ones that continued to make the effort in the depths of Ilya’s depression. Cliff Marleau and Tommy Connors. They’d practically become family with how often they visited.
She settled what she brought in the fridge and then headed back to their bedroom. She knew that Shane wouldn’t be able to stand leaving him. What she didn’t expect was to hear the sobs coming from the room.
“Mama! Mama- nyet- no. No. Wake up! Mama- wake up! Please- I’ll be good- I’ll be the best son ever. Just wake up, please wake up.”
Shane had his arms wrapped around Ilya- she couldn’t hear what he was saying over Ilya’s sobs. The only word that she could reliably catch was Mama- the rush of words so much faster than when he worked with her on Russian. It was enough though. She could piece together what he was probably seeing right now and the look of desperation Shane tossed over his shoulder almost broke her. This must have been going on for hours.
“Mom. Please.”
She walked over to Ilya’s other side- she could appreciate that Shane’s hug was also to protect Ilya from himself. His arms were pinned to his sides- but he’d obviously scratched his face before Shane had wrangled him into this hold. She finally got a good look at her boy and realized how tearstained his face was. Ilya screamed for his mother and she stepped in. She was not Irina. She’d never be Irina. But she was a mother and she knew him. She hoped that this would help.
“Ilya. Ilya- it’s Mama Yuna. Sweetie- you’ve got a high fever. You’re at home with Shane in Ottawa and you’ve got a lovely pup named Anya. I brought you borscht and cherniy khleb from that little shop you like downtown.” She ran her fingers through his curls- they were soaked with sweat- his face contorted in grief. She leaned into everything that had ever worked on Shane, but it didn’t break Ilya out of it. Not until she started humming and then quietly singing. She didn’t have a great voice, but she saw the first bit of relief in Ilya’s posture- so she kept at it. He slowly quieted as Shane continued to rock him and she watched Ilya’s eyes blink closed. Sleep pulled him under.
“This isn’t even the worst one. There’s one where he is terrified of me- screaming about how he’ll be a good son. He’ll do whatever it takes for the…for the beatings to stop. I knew…I always had an idea that his father…he’s never talked about this to me.”
“Shane–there’s a chance he doesn’t normally remember whatever he’s seeing. Have you slept any? Showing any symptoms?”
“Not really to sleeping. The aches and chills started a few hours ago. I’m staying ahead of it with theraflu and tea and enough Vicks to keep my breathing clear. Team doc said that unless his fever is about 40 that these hallucinations are just something that happens sometimes. I really hope he doesn’t remember any of this.”
“You should rest.”
“No, Mom. There’s a couple of them where he…he could hurt himself if he actually gets on his feet and starts moving around. I’m fine.”
“Shane–”
“I’m fine, really. That soup sounds amazing- maybe I can get a little in him. He seems to do better when I wake him up versus when he wakes up on his own.”
“Okay- I’ll bring the soup.”
******************
She kept herself busy- cleaning, doing laundry, ordering additional groceries. Now that Shane was also showing symptoms- she was pulling together some of the foods he preferred when he was sick. Which meant a lot of smoothies- some soup if she was really lucky. Out of the two of them Shane was worse when he was sick- unless Ilya got sick first. Shane would be in complete caretaker mode until Ilya was back on his feet. She really hoped his fever would break enough that the hallucinations would stop.
A moan and then a yell. Angry. Fuck. Shane hadn’t talked about one where he was angry.
“Let me go! Let me go!”
“Ilya- Ilya…it’s Shane. You’ve got the flu- baby please, lay back down.”
“No. Is Rozanov. And I can’t be here. I can’t stay with you- is too much risk. Is dangerous for me to be here- anyone could find out Hollander. Anyone.”
Hollander. Fuck. She hadn’t heard Ilya seriously call Shane- Hollander since that last season before they found out. Which meant Ilya didn’t remember that they’d gone to the cottage. Which meant that if she walked in right now- it would make things worse. He didn’t know that she knew about them, that he had become one of her favorite human beings in the world- that she loved him like he was her own son.
She slid to the floor outside their bedroom- pressed a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t go help Shane. If she walked into their bedroom right now- he would just freak out more. She thought that all of the memories would just be from when he was little. She didn’t realize how much their time in hiding might also be a trigger for Ilya.
“Okay- Ro…Rozanov. Can you at least feel that you’re sick? It’s okay if you stay- you should stay. We can text your coach- let them know you came down with something and you’ll join them as soon as you’re better.”
“This isn’t Boston. Or your apartment. Where…where…”
“My…my second place in Montreal. The apartment I told you about…I think I told you about. The one we don’t normally go to- because of the risk. You started feeling shitty after the game last night- I brought you back here since I have first aid things. Do you want to take a shower, get some of the sweat off, clean clothes?”
“Your…your real apartment? Am dying Hollander?”
A laugh. Shane’s. She pressed a hand over her mouth- blowing the cover that they were alone was dangerous right now. Sure- Shane could that this was Montreal but…but what the fuck did Shane mean about this being his second place in Montreal? She was aware that he had been a landlord to a combination commercial and residential building. The top floor. The tenants she never heard Shane mention. Because he was the tenant. Because he had covered their tracks so thoroughly that even she had not realized that the top floor of that building had been empty the entire time he’d owned it. And, apparently, he hadn’t even taken Ilya to his actual apartment during the years he was in Boston.
“Not dying. Just sick. How about the shower? And we text Coach Reilly or Marly or Connors about what’s going on. I can even toss a pair of sweats in the dryer so they’ll be warm for you.”
“Who…who are you? Where is Hollander? You act like mother hen. I’m fine- can fly back to Boston with team- just fever. I should go.”
“Il…Rozanov. It’s really fine. Tell them you’re with Jane- they won’t think anything of it and you can have someone…I can…let me take care of you. Please.”
“Fine. When did you grow hair out? Is very sexy.”
Another strangled laugh from Shane- followed by a restrained moan. She scrambled away from the door. She knew that Shane wouldn’t let this progress when Ilya was not in his right mind. With the amount of convincing it had taken to get Ilya to agree to stay- in their home- in Ottawa, which he didn’t recognize. He didn’t even remember at the moment that Shane had grown his hair out when he was still with Montreal and kept it for him- because he’d said how much he loved it. He didn’t know that they were married. She had agreed with Shane before- but she didn’t know if she could listen to another one of these. If she could listen to another time when Ilya didn’t remember that they were, where Shane had to lie to protect him.
A few minutes later- Shane walked into the kitchen- carrying the empty bowl of borscht. His eyes rimmed red. He looked fucking horrible and that was without his own sweats that pointed to how sick he was as well. Her baby needed to rest.
“More borscht for Rozanov. One of your favorite shakes for you.”
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough. He thinks he’s still with Boston?”
“Yeah. He texted Coach Reilly- I texted him right before that to ask him to play along. Explained that whatever the fuck this is, is messing with him. Also hit up Cliff and Tommy- just in case he reaches out to them too. Can you call doc? This feels wrong.”
“Yeah. Yeah- I’ll call him. Shane–you’re doing good. I know this has to be hard but…you’re doing really good. Honey, try to get some sleep when he sleeps this time. Your dad is going to swap out with me after work- said he’d do better on the couch than me. He’s not wrong.”
“You can have the guest room–”
“The couch is better if you need someone. And…Shane…you probably will.”
“Yeah. Okay. I need to get back before he walks out and I have to explain why this is a house and not an apartment and why that view is most definitely not downtown Montreal. And why my mother is here and completely calm about this.”
“Honey- it’s going to pass. Once the fever truly breaks- this will pass.”
David changed out with Yuna at around dinner time- he’d called out for the next day already and brought an overnight bag. Books, a puzzle, his laptop in the event he had to take a work call. Neither of the boys had been out. And Yuna had only said that she hoped that the fever broke soon- Ilya’s hallucinations were torturing Shane. She’d left out the part about how they were torturing her as well.
He made a pot of chicken and rice soup- his mother’s recipe. He needed something to do and he wouldn’t coddle Shane the same way Yuna did. He was going to force his boy to eat more than the smoothies. He needed to eat more than the smoothies since he’d also come down with this.
She’d also passed on that the team doc said to give it until morning and if the hallucinations and fever were still this bad- they should go to the hospital. He almost wished that he’d advised them to go ahead and go. Unfortunately- Shane would, most likely, be sent home since he was also sick. That was the only thing that really made him listen to what the team doc suggested. He knew that the boys did better when they were together.
Quiet footsteps padded into the kitchen- he looked up to see Ilya rubbing his eyes. He stood still and waited. The last thing Yuna had mentioned was that one of the hallucinations was from before they knew about them. When Ilya was with Boston.
“Anechka–supper.”
Ilya filled her bowls, added some more water and Anya came running. When he finally looked at him- David gave him the warmest smile he had. The confusion firmly settled in his gaze.
“Why…Shane? Shane!”
He heard nothing and then the sound of Shane scrambling down the stairs. He must have gotten to sleep deep enough that he hadn’t realized that Ilya had roused. He needed the rest- Shane desperately needed the rest at this point.
“Dad- hey. Ilya…you with me?”
“Is middle of week. Why…what…did someone die?”
“No- come here. Let me–” Shane’s hand went to Ilya’s forehead and he watched him relax. Maybe the fever had finally broken enough to break through and them be on the downhill slide with this part of whatever they had. “What do you remember?”
“Game last night- maybe night before. Felt like shit. Came home and…it’s night…did…what…Shane?”
“Maybe the fever broke. I’ll go grab the thermometer.”
“Shay- Shane– chto sluchilos?”
Shane was already walking away- his mind on the one thing he needed to check. Had the fever come down? Were the hallucinations over or was he going to have to continue to have his guard up? Ilya looked over at him- searching for answers.
“Both of you boys are sick with- something- Shane and Doc think the flu. You’ve had some pretty nasty hallucinations with how high your fever has been.”
David watched the range of emotions flash across Ilya’s face- finally settling on shame and pain. He turned the eye on the stove down and walked over to him, gently grabbed his arm. Ilya looked up at him and then back down at the floor. Shane knew the most about his past, but he’d seen the reactions. The less than handful of times he raised his voice about something. The tension when Shane needed to tell them something that they’d disagree with. The tendency to pull any bad reaction to him- to protect. He doubted that Ilya had ever been protected in his house- at least after his mother died. He could only imagine where his mind was going.
“Is…is he okay?”
“Yeah. Worried about you, but he’s…he’ll be fine.”
Shane shoved the thermometer into Ilya’s mouth before he could respond. It was a testament to how shitty he must feel that he didn’t argue or joke- he just let it settle. Shane stayed close and he went back over to the stove. He knew that Ilya would read how stressed Shane was- he hoped that Shane could talk Ilya out of the shame spiral that he would definitely dive into.
“Baby- it’s okay. You’re sick. We’re both sick. Doc said that this can just happen sometimes. And…good…your temp is down a bit. Finally.”
“Chicken and rice soup should be up in about 20. You boys think you can handle that?”
“Yeah. Yeah- that sounds great, Dad.”
********************
He jerked awake- Anya had curled up with him instead of her dads tonight. She was also alert- like whatever had woken him had also woken her. Then he heard it. The rapid fire Russian and fear. That was definitely the tone of voice he’d only heard a handful of times with Ilya- when he was deeply afraid. Normally it only came out if Shane was hospitalized.
He walked down to their room, trying to decide if he just went in or if he needed to knock. Shane’s sleepy voice filled the space- confusion evident. He opened the door and Ilya spun around to face him. Absolute terror in his gaze.
“Ilya. Why don’t we get you to take some more fever meds? Get some water?” David kept his voice level as Shane rubbed his eyes, his mind slowly coming online. Shane’s face fell as he realized what was happening and he then pulled himself back together. He took steps towards him but didn’t touch him. Like he knew that might make it worse.
“Papa, ya ne–I will try harder- I will do better. I promise I won’t be lazy anymore. I’ll be more like Aleksey. I’ll be better. I promise- I promise I will be…please don’t…please stop. No. No!”
“Ilya- your father isn’t here. He’s been dead for years. He can’t…he…he can’t hurt you anymore, baby.”
It didn’t work. Ilya backed further away from the both of them- slamming into a dresser before he finally sank down against the far wall. Shane’s throat bobbed and he reached over for his hand, giving it a squeeze. His son looked over at him and he let the silent question show- before Shane just nodded.
He walked towards Ilya- his hands up and then squatted down in front of him. The Russian Menace. A generational hockey talent. And a man who had been treated so poorly that these hallucinations brought out every bad memory from his childhood. Or at least the bad memories that stayed the closest to the surface.
“Ilya- I’m here to protect you. He won’t hurt you. He will not put a hand on you. And if he does- I will make him regret it. Do you hear me? He will not touch you so long as I am here. So long as Shane is here- we won’t let him. Because you are not a lazy son. You are not a bad child. He should protect you and if he can’t do that- fuck him.”
That seemed to break through- at least a little bit. At least enough that Ilya crawled towards him and he held his arms open. Ilya clung to him- he kept looking back like he could see his father there. So he kept saying it. He kept telling Ilya that he would not let his father do anything. Shane came back with a bottle of water and some medicine. He held it up for Ilya and he took it. He felt him settling and then he got heavy against him- asleep. He was so comfortable with him that he’d gone to sleep.
“Dad- thank you. I couldn’t figure out how–”
“It’s okay. You’re exhausted and also sick and trying to take care of him. What’s your temp?”
“I…I haven’t…”
“Check it and if it’s elevated- water and meds, Shane. Both of you are too stubborn for your own good.”
He heard Shane leave and he scooted over to the wall. Ilya was dead weight, but he was at least still moveable in pajama pants on a hardwood floor. He was warm- he was sure his fever had spiked again.
“I knew it was bad, but…he’s never been scared of me.”
He held out an arm and Shane crawled into his side. Both boys curled into him. He never thought his, nearly 30 year old- professional hockey playing, son and son-in-law would crawl into his lap like this. It spoke to just how truly fucking awful they both must feel. When he realized that Shane had also passed out against him- he had to hold in his chuckle. These boys. When they truly trusted someone- they let down all of their walls and would just be. He hated that Ilya didn’t know this kind of love as a child and he loved that they were able to show this to him as an adult.
He tapped his watch and set an alarm- three hours, thirty minutes- check their temperatures and force more meds. He was fairly sure that this breakthrough was because Shane was no longer on top of the meds. He’d take over for the rest of the night and hopefully that would get them both enough over the hump that they’d be able to relax the med schedule. At least for Shane- he felt like Ilya needed to stay on a schedule until he was much closer to a normal temp.
“It’s okay boys. You’re both safe here.”
Ilya woke- drenched in sweat with a crick in his neck. He also recognized that the mattress was very hard underneath him and that this was not the view he normally had from their bed. He let out a groan as he sat up and then realized that David Hollander was watching him carefully. Who was still pinned against the wall by his other 200+ pound son.
“That feels like a real fever break. But you’ve got about 5 more minutes before you’re due for new meds. Go ahead and grab them. Then we’ll get Shane awake and into bed.”
He knew he was missing the last day- everything was hazy. He only vaguely remembered a few moments where Shane or Yuna or David were reassuring him about something. He finally felt clear enough to follow what he was saying- so he made his way through their house and found medicine laid out on the counter- in Shane’s neat little piles. The paper had notes- at first- he could tell when Shane started feeling sick based on when the notes had stopped. Fuck. It had been a long day and a half.
He gathered the meds and made his way back to their bedroom. He felt like he’d taken a shower, like he’d been taken care of. Of course he had. That was something he never doubted when he was with this family- never doubted around the Hollanders.
David shook Shane awake when he saw him and he heard the whine come out of his husband. Oh Shane felt like absolute shit. He only heard that sound from him when he was well and truly sick.
“Here, malysh. Take. My turn to be caretaker.”
“Fever’s gone?”
“Seems so. I think your dad make me take meds for a bit longer- is fine. Come on- up. Poor David slept with both of us on top of him. Needs rest too.”
“Da…Dad?”
He watched as Shane looked over at his father- who only shrugged at him with that smile they both knew so well. David Hollander loved his boys. And he wasn’t sure what happened that David did this- he wasn’t sure what had really happened over the last day.
“Come on, up.”
He extended his hands to Shane- who took both of them and pulled himself up. Another groan. His head landed against his chest with a dull thud. He was on fire. Those meds hadn’t come a moment too soon. He watched as David shook out his arms and legs before he slowly got up as well- tapping his watch to set another alarm.
“You’re back? You’re good?”
“I…ummm…did something–”
“We’ll talk about it in the morning- both of you need to get some sleep in an actual bed. I’ll wake you up when it’s time for your next med dose.”
“David…”
“Ilya- go to sleep. Hold your husband. Nothing happened today that you need to know about right now.”
He watched David leave their bedroom and he tucked Shane into bed. He watched him shiver under the blankets. He’d gotten him sick. Fuck. He’d gotten Shane sick.
“Baby- baby- not your fault. I heard from Wyatt- almost the whole team is down. Hold me?”
“Da. Konechno.”
He crawled into bed behind Shane- fresh sheets. Shane must have changed the sheets at some time today- considering how sweaty they both got when they were sick- this always felt nice. He pulled Shane into his chest- who rolled over to face him and he found himself rubbing circles on his back. It soothed Shane and it also calmed him. He wasn’t sure what happened. He just knew that he was safe. That he’d been safe. And that was something he’d never have to question again.