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It was a clean hit. A check that had too much force, the angle just wrong enough to make something inside of him snap. Ilya bounced off the boards with a rough smack, the Toronto defenceman slamming his chest into a position it definitely didn’t belong in.
Ilya used all of his focus to stay upright on his skates, but the sharp pain emanating from his right side briefly caused him to lose his balance. Shit. He thought he had more time before he completely lost himself.
He knew what broken ribs felt like; it was around his eighth birthday that he got his first fracture. It was hard to tell which injuries came from the ice and which came from his father back then. Now his father was buried six feet under in a grave that Ilya would never visit, in a cemetery he was exiled from, in a country that was no longer his.
As he tried to fill his lungs with the rink-cold air, another stabbing pain brought him back down to his knees. His hope that he could skate this off was quickly dwindling.
As long as he was breathing fine, then everything was okay. Fractured ribs only get dangerous once they threaten to puncture a lung, right? He could avoid that. He just needed to catch his breath long enough to push himself off the ground.
The game was still moving around him, the seconds he spent on his knees causing him to lose touch with the current play. Toronto must have the puck still. He thought with a grimace. That was fine; he could wait until Boston got it back. He could still support his team.
Marlow was next to him within half a minute, a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from slipping further down onto the ice.
“I’m fine.” The usual confidence that his voice demanded was undercut by the obvious struggle it took Ilya to force out the two-word sentence.
“Motherfucker, you are not.” Cliff moved his sasquatch arm in front of Ilya to keep him from trying to get up before the medics could arrive. Play must have stopped then.
That was good. Right?
“Just a bruised rib. Is fine.” Ilya knew he was lying, but Cliff didn’t know that. Or maybe he did, considering the look he gave his Captain.
Ilya felt another hand on his back, bracing him as they pulled him forward. Thank fuck they weren’t taking him out on a backboard. He knew Shane was watching the live game; he always did when he wasn’t playing one of his own. He remembered how terrified he had been watching Shane get carted out the year earlier when Cliff had got him, and he would hate to make his boyfriend feel that same helplessness.
Ilya was fine. The fact that it was getting harder to breathe was inconsequential. Who wouldn’t be breathing hard after playing a game of hockey for the fucking MLH? He was fine. This was normal.
…
The on-site medical room had an X-ray machine that didn’t care about Ilya’s insistence that he was fine. In fact, it said that he had three broken ribs. Fucking machine.
“I’m ordering an Ultrasound and CT for you first thing in the morning; for now, let’s get you iced and medicated.”
Ilya nodded at the team doctor’s words; he may hate it, but he wasn’t going to be difficult for the man. He was mostly just thankful that they weren’t immediately making him take an ambulance to urgent care.
Lying on his back with a pillow wedged underneath him, he was able to find a position that gave him just enough relief that he could breathe easy. As long as he didn’t move.
“We can’t have this on for more than 20 minutes, but it should help with the pain and swelling.” The doctor maneuvered an ice pack onto the center of the injury. “Give it a few hours, then you can ice it 15- 20 minutes again.”
“Thank you.” Any pretense of painlessness fell away as the cool pack soothed his screaming side. He wasn’t aware of how much he needed that.
They were still doing a concussion check, despite the fact he didn’t even hit his fucking head. He supposed if he was in their shoes, he wouldn’t listen to the guy who said his obviously broken ribs were ‘fine’ either. But the concussion check was keeping him from his phone, and he desperately wanted to let Shane know that he was okay. David and Yuna too. It still felt odd having a set of parental figures worry about him, or to think about him at all.
Cliff materialized in the exam room, and Ilya wondered, not for the first time, how such a big guy could be so quiet. “Your girl is mad worried about you, man. I tried answering one of her calls, but it must not have connected because I couldn’t hear her.”
Ilya imagined the face Shane must have made when his call went through, just to hear Marlow on the other side. Shit, it probably freaked him out. It would freak Ilya out if someone else answered his boyfriend's phone, especially after watching him go down.
He suppressed an eye roll. “Maybe she didn't want to talk to you, Marley.” Ilya held out his hand for his Alternate to pass him the phone.
There was a pause while Cliff looked at the doc with an eyebrow raised as if asking for permission.
“Concussion check was cleared; he can have his phone.”
Thank God.
He unlocked the screen to see a barrage of missed calls and texts, and couldn't stop the warm feeling that they enlisted.
(1) MISSED CALL FROM “JANE”
(2) MISSED CALLS FROM “JANE”
(24) UNREAD MESSAGES FROM “JANE” + “MAMOCHKA”and (2) OTHERS…
JANE: please let me know if you're okay
JANE: there's not a flight to you until tomorrow morning but I can start driving now?
JANE: …
JANE: jesus christ, maybe warn me before you let your friends answer the phone? Cliff almost heard my worried rant
JANE: why does he have your phone?
JANE: please
JANE: just send me an emoji if you're okay
JANE: …
JANE: alright I'm booking a flight
don't book a flight. you have a game tomorrow, malysh
I am okay
they wouldn't let me have my phone until I proved there was no concussion
I told them I was fine
maybe have rib injury
It's okay
JANE: is it actually okay or are you just saying that
JANE: that was a hard hit
okay, maybe rib injury is more like 3 fractures they could see on the xray
I get CT and ultrasound tomorrow morning
guess we'll see if I'm pregnant 👀👀
JANE: shit that sounds serious, don't joke about that
being pregnant?
JANE: no asshole
JANE: do you have someone to stay with you tonight until your appointment?
marley will not leave me alone so, probably, yes
he is trying to read over my shoulder
creep
JANE: okay well call me when you can
JANE: love you
lyublyu tebya
❤️