Work Text:
Lily:
I love you
I will always love you, okay?
I will be with you forever, in your heart.
Jane:
Lily???
I love you too
We'll be together forever
I'm putting a ring on it, remember? haha
Lily?
Hey, it's 3am, you can't just say that and leave
Ilya
Moya Lyublyu
Lily:
I love you, Shane Hollander
I'm sorry.
Jane:
[Missed voice call]
[Missed voice call]
Pick up the phone
[Missed video call]
Ilya
[Missed voice call]
[Missed video call]
what's going on? are you okay?
Lily:
It's okay Shane, I'm fine.
Jane:
Pick up
[Missed video call]
Ilya you're scaring me
Lily:
I don't want you to see me like this
Jane:
It's okay. No matter what, I love you. Just pick up.
Lily:
I'm a mess
Jane:
Okay, voice call only, yes?
I just need to hear you're okay
you don't even need to tell me what happened
[Missed voice call]
Ilya, please
My parents are not home to check on you, I'm going crazy, please pick up
[Voice call accepted]
“Ilya” Shane gasped as if he were emerging from water. Ilya didn't answer. "Baby, what is happening? I'm here."
"I'm sorry," Ilya hipped softly. Shane's heart jumped.
"Why are you sorry? What happened?"
"Shane, I'm sorry, I had to tell you."
"Whatever it is, it won't make me love you any less."
"I'm like my mama, Shane." Shane's heart sank. "She was so sad. I am so sad."
"Where are you, baby?"
"At home."
"Okay, baby, where's Anya?"
"I don't... I didn't want her to see– God, Shane, you can't find me."
"Ilya, don't say that. There's nothing... you can't... listen, let Anya in. Give her a hug, stay with her until I get there."
"Shane, you're in Florida."
"I fucking know, I'll take the first flight. You're more important than anything else in my life."
"You can't find me," he repeated, voice suddenly drowning in tears. "I still think about my Mama like that. You remember me happy, ok? forget call, remember I love you."
"I love you, Ilya. Stop saying those things," Shane shook his head, tears already falling down his cheeks. "Baby, did you do something? Did you hurt yourself?"
"Not yet," Ilya mumbled. Shane's breath caught.
"That's good, baby. Whatever you were planning, let's stop, yes? I'm on my way. Stay with Anya and..."
"Will be an accident, Shane. It's okay."
"It's not okay, Ilya! You'd kill me. There's no me without you, there's... nothing, Ilya. You are everything. I know you feel really sad, I understand it feels like too much but please, baby. What is it? Pills?" Ilya sobbed. "Okay, okay, baby. Put them down, yes? Where are you?"
"The room."
"Our room," Shane corrected him gently. "Leave the pills there, yes? go to the living room with Anya"
"Can't move. Too heavy."
"What's too heavy? Is there something on you?"
"Body is too heavy, Shane. Everything is."
"I know, Baby, but you're strong. I get you're probably tired of being strong, but it's just till I get there and then I'll take care of you, okay? I'll protect you, I'll– shit, Ilya, I'll help. I'll find a way."
"There's no solution, it's in my head."
"Then we'll find a way to deal with it. We'll make it less heavy, yes?"
Ilya breathed into the phone for what felt like eternity. Then Shane could hear him shift in bed and he spoke.
"Da. Yes. What do I do?"
"Da," Shane echoed. "Good. Get Anya, remember you're not alone. I'm booking my flight right now, but it'll be in 3 hours plus another 3 of the flight."
"Too much."
"I know, I know. But I'll be here the entire time, I won't leave you alone."
"I'm being such... what's word? problem? weight?"
"You're not. You're perfect, I love you."
"I'm in living room with Anya." Ilya announced as a response.
"Where are the pills?"
A pause, then
"In the room."
"Promise?"
"I meant to... I meant to leave them."
"Ilya, who can I call?"
"Nobody."
"Your coach? Bood? Hazy? who do you trust? I don't want you to be alone."
"I'm okay. I won't do it. Everything's fine. I'm sorry I worried you."
"You're not okay, but that's okay. You just need some company —"
"Nobody from team. I'm captain, I can't be... this."
Shane could understand the feeling.
"Okay, any other friends?"
Ilya stayed silent. Shane was starting to get desperate again. His bags were ready but he had to let his coach and Hayden know he was leaving. He could stay on the phone at the airport, but not during take off or landing. And not during his talks. And that was still so much time of Ilya being alone with his thoughts and those pills. The options were diminishing by the second, not to mention that he was just learning that his fiance didn't have any friends at home. Just how alone was he? How didn't he notice before?
"Baby, I'm calling an ambulance."
"No."
"I'm worried."
"I won't do it, I promise," Ilya begged.
"I believe you mean it, but your head... I'm still scared."
"I'm sorry. I'm scared too, but please don't call emergency. I'll be okay until you get here. I... at least because I know you would find me and–"
"Ilya," Shane sobbed.
"I'm sorry. I'm so tired."
"Where are the pills?"
"On table"
"Put them in the freezer," Shane blurted out.
"What?"
"I don't know, Ilya, I just... I want them out of your sight and maybe the cold could ground you a little? I read that once."
He had read about anxiety a while ago, before the cottage, before Rose had sat him down, back when he would almost have a panic attack before going out with his girlfriend or after getting off at the thought of a specific Russian man. He'd known Ilya had a history with depression, they had a fucking foundation about it! How come he never researched what to do? How come he never saw the signs of just how bad it was getting?
His Ilya was alone and breaking down and Shane hadn't noticed.
"Shane?" asked Ilya, whispering.
"I'm here, baby. What did you do?"
"They're in freezer. I'm back with Anya in living room," he sighed.
"Okay, I'm proud of you."
"You can't be."
Shane made a choked sound.
"I am. You're so strong and so brave. You called me, didn't you? You're asking for help and that's brave."
"I'm just being annoying."
"None of that. I love you, Ilya. I'm sorry for not seeing you were struggling," Shane murmured, voice watery.
"I didn't want you to know."
"I understand, but I should've."
"Are you coming?" Ilya changed the subject.
"I need to hang up for a moment to let Coach and Hayden know I'm leaving. I'll be back in 20 minutes tops, okay? Stay with Anya and... and I'll figure everything out, yes? I promise."
"I trust you," Ilya responded. Then, quietly, he added: "thank you"
"I love you."
"I love you too. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. 20 minutes, I'll be right back."
Ilya hung up and Shane felt like a part of himself died with the call. Ilya was alone again, in a different country and barely contained. Shane was vibrating with anxiety as he grabbed his bags and wiped his hands over his face, trying to clean the tears that were still falling silently.
He was going to worry everyone, that's for sure, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
He knocked what must've been 20 times on Thierault's door and the man didn't even have time to be upset when he saw his Golden player's condition.
"What happened?"
"Family emergency, I'm leaving."
"What? Your parents?" He asked, confused.
"They're okay," Shane explained. "It's something private, I'm just letting you know."
"Wait, let me talk with the team and–"
"I already booked tickets, sir. I don't want to, or have to, explain further. Good night."
He next knocked on Hayden's door, this time way more frantically.
"What the fuck? Is there a fire or– Holly, what happened?" Hayden asked, eyes barely open.
"Ilya. I'm going to Ottawa."
"Is he okay?"
"I don't think so."
"That's so vague, dude. Is he alive? hurt? Look at you."
To be fair, Shane was a complete mess. Face patchy red and snotty, talking frantically between hips and sobs.
"It's none of your business!" he snapped. "Just cover for me, say it's a family emergency."
"People will worry about your parents."
"Fuck, I need to call my parents."
Hayden shook his head, "I'll do it, you go."
"Tell them our phones will be occupied, they'll worry."
"I will, Shane. Go."
"Hayden, I'm scared," he confessed.
"Yeah, you're scaring me too, but I can tell that the only thing that will calm you down is seeing Rozanov, so go."
So he went. He called Ilya in the car, then hung up to do the fastest check in in history, and called him again until they called his flight and he started to panic again. Ilya sounded better. Still worn out and dropping worrying comments like he had lost all filter. Shane knew him and trusted him to not touch those pills, but still...
"I need to hang up, baby. It'll be a bit longer this time, but I'll be there with you in like four hours now."
"That's too much."
"I know, but we can do it. I love you."
they hung up and immediately after, Shane started looking through his contacts for one specific person.
The New York Admirals had played the Centaurs the night prior and it didn't make sense for them to leave so soon. Ilya wouldn't be so happy about his choice, but something told Shane that Scott Hunter was the best option for this job. He was a good person, a good captain, and wasn't scared of Ilya's tough facade. Annoyed? Sure, but Shane noticed that he saw through the chirps.
Plus, he was pretty sure he already suspected about them, so what was one more secret? he knew for a fact that Scott Hunter could keep a those.
Scott picked up on the third ring.
Scott picked up on the third ring, still surprised by the name on display: Shane Hollander (Montreal). Even weirder, it was barely five in the morning.
"Hollander," he greeted, still groggy from sleep.
"Scott, I'm so sorry, I need your help," said Shane's voice from the other side of the line. He was agitated. Scott sat up.
"What's wrong?"
"You're in Ottawa, right? You haven't left."
"Yeah, we played Cents yesterday."
"Yeah, Scott, I need your help," Shane cut him up. He was repeating himself, rambling and stuttering. It was a version of Hollander that he had never even imagined.
"I'm sending you Ilya's address. I know it's sudden, but he doesn't want his team to know and my parents are out of town and Sveta is in fucking Boston. I'm flying up, already told Coach I have a family emergency but it'll take hours and he needs–" he choked. Scott couldn't tell if it was because of his emotions or his own spit. Finally, he whined. "He needs me."
"Rook, I'm not understanding."
"Fuck, Hunter. I'm in fucking Florida. I'll be there, just, I need... Ilya needs..."
"Hey, hey, Shane," Scott said, already standing up and looking for clothes. "I'm on my way, explain what happened. Did Roz fall? Is he hurt?"
He heard Shane whimper and swore again.
"I don't know, I don't think so. People are staring, I'm crying at the airport. I need to board soon."
"That's not important right now, let it out," he tried to comfort him. "You'll never see those people again."
"They'll take pictures."
"Fuck them," Scott said earnestly. He had put on some pants and an Admirals sweatshirt, and now was looking for his shoes. He put Shane on speaker.
"Ilya will feel bad when he sees them," Shane cried, speaking in whispers. "What if it makes it worse? I'm not helping, Scott. What do I do?"
"Okay, first, stay on the phone with me. Everything will be okay." He swiped through his phone for a few seconds, then clicked his tongue. "I called a car and gps says I'll be there in 20 minutes."
Shane let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you. I'll send you the codes to the doors," he hesitated. "I doubt she would hurt you if you're there to help her Papa, but remember that he has a dog. Her name is Anya."
"That's a beautiful name," Scott said, trying to keep the conversation light as he stepped out of his room and walked towards the elevator. Shane was starting to calm down.
"Anya Rozanova," he choked out, as if he had remembered something awful about her name.
"Cute. I'll be careful with her. What time is your flight?"
"I board in 10 minutes. I promised to call Ilya back. You said 20 minutes?" he asked, anxious again.
"If this elevator goes down faster, it'll be 19."
"Okay, okay. Everything will be okay," Shane echoed Scotts previous words like a mantra.
"It will, Rook. I'll help however I can."
"Okay, I'll hang up, then" he sighed. "And Scott, can you keep everything a secret?"
"Of course, Shane. I've had my own secrets, I'll protect whatever is happening."
The car he ordered was already waiting outside the hotel.
"Thank you. I gotta go, I need to check on Ilya before I board."
"Good. I'm getting in the car."
"Thank you again."
Scott opened the door slowly, knocking as he walked in.
"Shanya?" called Ilya's choked up voice from somewhere in the house.
"Rozanov," he answered as Ilya appeared in front of him, a dog following him.
He looked exhausted, but not the I haven't slept in 24 hours kind of tired. It was something deep in his expression, in the way he stood, barefoot and with his shoulders high and forward. Scott didn't even need the tear streaks down his cheeks to know something was wrong.
Well, everything was wrong. This was Ilya Rozanov. The asshole, the overconfident, Russian boy full of chirps and determination to be the most annoying person in the room.
What happened to that kid?
"Why you have code?" he asked before Scott could formulate any words. Or questions. Or any reaction at all. His accent was thicker than Scott remembered.
"Shane gave it to me," he said finally. "He's very worried, are you okay?"
"He told you?" Ilya whispered.
Scott took a step forward.
"He said you don't want your team to know what's happening. That's why he called me."
"No, he told you about us?"
That's when it clicked. A family emergency, a secret, Shane's desperation and the decision of calling him over other people. Someone who could keep a secret, but maybe, also keep him company.
"I... I wasn't sure until now."
Ilya's face crumbled the same way Kip's had done one day. Scott felt his next words in his bones.
"But he didn't say."
"He was a bit... distracted. Like I said, he's very worried about you," he tried to wave off the situation. Not to make Rozanov feel worse, but because he already felt like he was invading something. "What's wrong, Roz?"
"I don't... nothing... Shane called you?"
"Yes. He's on his way. I promise."
After a moment of indecision, Ilya walked back into the hallways of his home. Scott was staring to wonder if he was supposed to follow when he came back holding a bottle of pills. He handed them to Scott. The bottle was cold.
"I... no accidents, yes? Tell Shane."
"Accidents?"
"You have the pills, yes? No accidents."
Scott googled in silence: my friend wants to take pills, then held his breath as he read. He wasn't sure that's what Ilya meant with “no accidents”, but it made sense. Shane wouldn't be so worried if Ilya wasn't in danger, especially if the danger was himself.
He looked at the pills for the millionth time in the last 30 minutes, then at Ilya, sitting on the floor with Anya laying on his lap. He was completely zoned out. Scott almost wondered if he was asleep with his eyes open.
It was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t just sit in Rozanov’s living room in fear for four hours. He wanted to say something, he had to say something. Right?
"Ilya…” he called. Rozanov made a soft sound. “Were you going to hurt yourself?"
Ilya stared into nothing and his eyes filled with tears though his face remained stoic.
"I need Shane," he said after a moment, his voice low and rough from crying. Scott cleared his throat.
"He's on his way, I just... I'm here, okay? I won't judge you.” He sighed, “I think... sometimes we don't want to worry those we love, right? Just, you can talk to me. If you want to."
The advice of “showing empathy” looked easier said than done. Google wasn’t so much help after all. What else was he supposed to do? Get help, sure, but in this moment he was the help.
Ilya stayed quiet for a long time, so much that Scott thought that was it. He would sit in silence with Rozanov for three hours until Shane Hollander got home. Then, Shane could take him to the hospital.
Then, Ilya spoke.
"I've been dreaming about my Mama," he murmured. Scott tensed up. "She's always about to meet Shane, but they never meet because I keep finding her. Her arm was hanging, unnaturally asleep, and I was thinking... Maybe it didn't hurt that way. Maybe I can go just like she did, and all the pain and secrets and danger would disappear." He closed his eyes, face contorted with pain. He was trying to look away, to hide from Scott. "I want my Mama, Hunter"
Scott swallowed a knot in his throat.
"I understand"
"Of course you do."
"But I'm sure she wouldn't want you to follow,” he added. “Not yet."
"When, Hunter? I'm so... tired. Everything is so heavy. Shane is away all the time and therapy is not working. Medicine is not working. Maybe if I just accidentally take some more, then it will be peaceful."
"Do you really want that?"
Ilya let out a noise close to a sob, and close to a yes. He took a moment to answer and Scott let him. He watched as Ilya Rozanov fought his lungs to breath, how he choked up and held his dog closer.
"No,” he finally said. “No, it'll hurt Shane."
Scott felt himself pale and tried to shake it out.
"It will hurt a world of people, Roz. The universe would feel your absence. Do you think people would be better without you?"
“They already are. Look at the Bears- My friends.” He chuckled sadly. “The Centaurs haven't changed. My Shane can live without me, I have no other family or—”
“Stella?”
“What?”
“Shane mentioned something like that…”
“I… Sveta? She… she doesn't know. She is in Boston too. Old friend from hom– from Russia.”
Jesus, he has a lot of excuses— and reasons. Fuck, he’s really thinking about this.
“What about Shane's parents?” He asked, trying to not sound scared or frantic. “I've seen the fan updates of them commenting nice things on your posts. Are you close?”
“You follow my update accounts?” Ilya smiled a little.
There he is, Scott thought. He smiled at Ilya.
“You wish. They just pop up.”
“I love Shane's parents. They take care of me, they… they love me.”
“And wouldn't they be sad if something happened to you?”
“They'd be sad but they'll be better off. They'll forget me, find better son in law.”
“You shouldn't get to choose for them, choose for Shane.”
Ilya sighed.
“It’s easier said than done, Hunter.”
“Still, don’t they deserve that?”
“They deserve everything. They don’t deserve this.”
Scott looked at him pensively, and they stayed quiet for a moment.
Find help, Google said. Scott needed to find him real help.
“You mentioned therapy. I think we should call your therapist.”
“No.”
“Let me rephrase: Let’s call your therapist.”
“Fuck off, Hunter.”
“Shane asked me to come, remember?”
“Yes! You have fucking pills! I’m okay!” Ilya yelled.
“You want to kill yourself!” Scott yelled back.
“She won’t do anything about it! We just talk about my Mama and Shane and how sad I am.”
“Okay, that’s good too, but now you need to talk about this. About your medicine and your… Thoughts.”
“This was mistake,” Ilya sighed.
“I agree with that.”
They remained quiet for a few minutes, Scott still gripping the pills and Ilya petting Anya. That was one of the most emotionally draining situations in his life, and he had had multiple meetings with Cronwell after coming out publicly. Of course, that didn’t compare. Fuck, knowing what he does now, that was probably another one of Rozanov’s fears.
Fuck Google’s advice. There was something that always helped him when he was sad.
“You’re not allowed to touch anything, but let’s go to the kitchen.”
Shane unlocked the door as fast as he could, messing up the codes along the way. His hands were still shaking even though he had gotten many updates through the four hours of traveling. Ilya was okay, he trusted Scott to keep him safe. He trusted Ilya when he said there were no accidents, but still, his nerves couldn’t relax, his heart couldn’t slow down, the tears couldn’t stop welling in his eyes.
None of that mattered anymore. He was home and Ilya was a few rooms away.
“Ilya? Baby?” he screamed.
“Kitchen!” He heard Scott’s scream, followed by a loud crash that made Shane pale.
“Ilya?”
“Shanya!”
Ilya appeared in front of him and Shane immediately broke down. They hugged, tighter than ever before, both with tears rolling down their cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Shanya, I’m sorry.”
“Never scared me like that again,” Shane sobbed, his hands roaming his fiancé’s body, checking for any harm. “Never, Ilya. I was so scared. I couldn’t stop— I just kept thinking of you, of finding you and—” He choked up and heaved.
“I’m sorry.”
“I kept thinking of you alone and sad and I didn’t know, baby. I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t tell you.”
“I should have known. I’m going to marry you, I should’ve known you’re struggling. I should be able to help you. I want to help you.”
“I will let you help me.”
“We already called his therapist,” Scott said, effectively breaking the emotional moment.
“You have a therapist?”
Scott sighed loudly, “I think you need to talk.”
“No, shit, Old Man,” Ilya quipped. Scott couldn't manage to look genuinely annoyed.