Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Shane wished for just one fucking moment, that everything could go right.

That nothing could be overwhelmingly wrong for just a second, just long enough for him to catch his breath. He wasn't sure why the universe wouldn't grant him that, why nothing he'd done past or present had seemed to allow him that one simple ask.

And things had been going well, as well as they could have been considering the shit storm of last year. It had truly seemed like things were finally going to be okay for him and Ilya. Of fucking course the world had to prove him wrong.

Was it not enough that they'd been outed (though accidental it didn't change what had happened)? Was it not enough that they'd fought like hell for each other through it all, that they held on even tighter when the entire MLH seemed to be against them? Was it not enough that they'd made it? Got to the light at the end of the tunnel, were out and proud of their relationship, were married for fucks sake?

Would everything they'd been through ever be enough to satisfy whatever hellish force seemed to want to watch them implode?

Shane blew out a hard breath, his hands coming up to press sharply into his eyes. The pressure igniting sparks and colors behind his lids. Ilya was in bed beside him, sleeping soundly, only moving if he was inching himself closer to Shane.

God, he loved him so fucking much.

Ilya had been doing so well, working so hard, and it was paying off. He was in a good place with Galina, with his medication, with his mental health, with Shane.

And now this.

This damning text that sought to send everything crumbling to the ground when they had only just begun to catch their breath, only just begun to settle into the safety they had found in the aftermath of everything last season.

He glanced back at his phone, the words staring up at him, looking for all the world like they were mocking him.

Comeau:

Would be a shame if anything were to happen to Rozanov, wouldn't it?

The text had come through an hour ago and Shane hadn't been able to stop staring at it since.

Shane knew it was a threat, knew it was meant to do nothing more than get in his head. Ottawa had been playing a good season so far, they were about a month in and they'd only lost two games. Shane was a little shocked himself if he was being honest. But regardless, they'd been playing well. If they kept this type of momentum going they could be in a for a playoff run. Shane wasn't optimistic enough yet to hope for a cup in his first season with Ottawa but the possibility was always there. Something about this team just clicked in a way he never knew he wanted. It showed in the whole teams playing.

So this, this bullshit text, was just a way to mess with him. A way to throw him off his game before they played Montreal in four weeks. A way to get in his head before they could embarrass his former team. That's all it was.

But what if it wasn't?

What if this was a direct threat on Ilya's life and it was all Shane's fault? What if Comeau was a little crazier than Shane had thought and Ilya paid the price for it? What if he lost the most important person in his life, his center, his anchor, his every fucking thing, because he hadn't taken this seriously?

Shane was spiraling, he knew it. If Ilya had been awake he'd already be trying to coax his breathing into something slower, he'd already be pulling Shane into his chest and murmuring to him gently both in Russian and English. If Ilya was awake he'd be taking Shane's phone and scoffing at the message, probably telling Comeau to go fuck himself as he held Shane closer and coached him through his panic as he'd done a thousand times before.

But Ilya was no awake.

And Shane was still staring at the message as another came through.

Comeau:

Do not ignore me, Hollander. It will only make this worse.

Shane sucked in a breath and fired off a text before he could talk himself out of it.

Hollander:

Threatening my husband on a traceable line seems dumb even for you Comeau. Leave us alone or I'm going to the police.

There. Done.

Comeau wouldn't be stupid enough to continue after that right? He wouldn't risk his entire career over terrorizing Shane just for his own amusement right? Even as he thought it, he wasn't so sure.

He was proved wrong a second later as his phone buzzed again.

Comeau:

Go to the police and see what happens, Hollander. You won't recognize your 'husband' when we're through with him. Matter of fact, if this gets out to anyone you can say goodbye to your happy little life. How does that sound?

Shane sucked in a breath. 'We're'.

There were multiple people involved then. It wasn't just Comeau seeking to make his life a living hell, he had backup, had at least one other person following his commands and while Shane wasn't stupid he also wasn't sure he wanted to risk calling Comeaus bluff.

What if he had more people than Shane could handle by himself? What if he had been meticulously planing this since Shane's trip in the playoffs last year? What if the plan was finally ready to set in motion and this was why he waited until now to enact it?

What if he really had the resources to hurt Ilya?

This was the question that had every joint and muscle in his body locking up, stilling in a way that was painful.

His eyes moved just slightly, seeing his husband still spread out peacefully beside him, his hand resting lightly against Shane's hip as it had been all night.

What if he lost this?

No.

He would not lose this, he would not lose him.

He refused. He couldn't be without Ilya anymore, probably never really could be without Ilya if he thought about it. He wouldn't survive it. He mind flashed briefly to the yawning cavern of grief he'd felt the year before, when he'd heard about the Centaurs plane.

He hadn't really held together then and Ilya had been fine. Shane hadn't known that at the time of course but in the end it had been okay.

For some reason, Shane had an almost certainty that if he didn't comply, this would not be okay.

And that wasn't something he could live with.

A world without Ilya was not a world Shane was willing to tolerate. His stomach roiled with nausea at the mere notion of it.

No. He would fix this, he would figure it out and he wouldn't mention it to anyone even if it killed him to hide it from his husband. Even if it sent shock waves of pain rippling through him. It would be worth it because Ilya would be alive and that was more to him than any pain he might feel in the meantime.

He looked back down at the text thread.

Hollander:

Fine, no one else. What do you want?

Comeau:

Good. Shouldn't be an issue since you're so well versed in lying through your teeth. We'll know if you talk. And we'll get to specifics later. Just keep your head down and mouth shut for now. Sleep well, Hollander.

Shane threw his phone on the nightstand and it clattered loudly in the quiet room. He winced, his eyes darting over to Ilya.

He stirred slightly, his head moving to rest more firmly on Shane's arm.

"любимый?" His gravelly, sleep rough voice called out.

His arm tightened around Shane's frame, his face adorably confused. Shane heart stung, his chest ached. He wanted so badly to tell him, to share this and let him take part of it like he so often asked of Shane. But he couldn't, if he did, he'd lose this. He'd lose that easy smile, those sweet words. He would lose this warm weight against him and those strong arms that held him so gently, like he was the most precious thing he'd ever touched.

So, he said nothing.

Instead he reached up and stroked a soothing hand through his curls, gentling him back to the pliant pile of a man he was before.

"Just dropped my phone, go back to sleep, sweetheart."

He dropped a kiss to Ilya's forehead and reveled in the indulgent way Ilya leaned into him.

Ilya, still half asleep, just nodded and brought Shane closer into the circle of his arms. His fingers rubbing soothing circles into his hip.

"Sleep, Shanya." The words were soft, whispered so gently into the quiet air and in their wake, Shane could almost forget the blood chilling text thread he'd just received. Could almost allow his husband to lull him into a restful sleep and ignore everything else fo a moment.

Almost was a funny thing though, and Shane decided he hated that word.

He just ran a hand down Ilya's back in response and listened as he drifted off, blissfully unaware of Shane's rapidly increasing turmoil that he steeled himself to endure.

He endure it all, whatever he needed to, for this man in his arms.

Shane settled deeper against his husband, bracing for a restless night. Why couldn't they just be? Why?

~

Week 1:

Something was wrong with his husband.

It was frighteningly obvious even from the moment they had woken up that morning. Ilya had woken with contentment humming in his blood, buzzing under his skin. The same way he had been waking up most days since the start of this season. He was finally doing something that worked, something that made life just a little less heavy.

Shane helped, Shane helped the most anything had ever helped. But now he had more help, he had Shane, and Galina, and his meds and his team and everything had been going shockingly well. He was happy he was so fucking happy. He still is, even though he thinks something is wrong. Knows something is wrong.

He just needs to figure out what it is that seems to be bothering his sweetheart so much.

He had been more stiff than he usually was this morning, he was always somewhat stiff, he wouldn't be his Shane if he wasn't, but in the mornings he was at least somewhat more pliant. Especially if Ilya had fucked him particularly good the night before, if he had reduced him to a babbling mess.

It wasn't exactly that last night, it had been slower, softer, more languid than most of their times. But it was good, amazing really in Ilya's mind at least. Because now they had time, they could have sex and it didn't always have to be fast and hard because they would still be there in the morning and not just because one of them would be leaving for the airport a few hours later.

Still, Shane was tense. Something was going on, he was just the slightest bit more subdued, just a little later on a comeback. Nothing that would make anyone else raise a brow, but a change that Ilya felt like a sledgehammer.

So, he stayed close, he usually did nowadays anyway but it felt just a hare more intentional today. Close for more than the simple fact that he couldn't go five minutes without getting his hands on Shane's skin.

They were sitting in the locker room, their team around them as they all changed back into their regular clothes. Practice had gone well, they were all becoming accustomed to each other on the ice and it was showing in their games too.

It still made Ilya giddy every time he caught Shane's eyes. On the same team. He was so fucking lucky.

He shook his head a bit, enough lamenting. He had a husband to figure out.

He bumped Shane's shoulder lightly, his mouth rising to meet his temple with a soft kiss.

"Everything alright, драгоценный?"

Shane's cheeks flushed slightly, Ilya didn't use that one as often but it was till one he loved nonetheless. It rang true in his mind, in his heart everytime he looked at his husbands face. His beautiful freckles. Fucking precious.

Shane nodded, quickly enough that it made Ilya narrow his eyes.

"Shane"

"Ilya"

Ilya sighed slightly, so stubborn, his husband.

"You have been tense all day, what's going on in there?" He rapped his knuckles softly to his forehead.

Shane breathed for a moment, his hand's coming down to pry off his other skate, the first sitting on the other side of his leg.

"Nothing, just…I don't know, off day?"

Ilya didn't really believe that but he didn't want to push too hard just yet. Shane sometimes needed space to sort out his thoughts before talking to Ilya about whatever it was and Ilya had learned that pushing it never helped speed that process up.

He nodded slowly, letting his suspicion show.

"You will tell me when you're ready, yes?"

Shane moved his skates aside and stood to grab his shirt.

"Yes, Ilya."

Even with the reassurance something twisted in Ilya's gut. A low warning, a pulse of dread echoing through him.

Shane had lied.

~

Week 1:

There had been no new texts in the last six days but it hadn't stopped Shane from feeling like he was going to crawl out of his skin every second of the day. It hadn't stopped the feeling of being watched from permeating through his mind and making every movement feel stilted and awkward.

It certainly hadn't stopped Ilya from trying to drag the truth out of him with no success. And Shane knew, he knew that Ilya had no way of knowing that Shane was just trying to protect him. He didn't know that this was the only way. He just understood that Shane was being weird and he didn't know why.

It still grated on Shane with how often he questioned him and shot him that worried gaze that only seemed to deepen as the days went on.

They were having the same conversation again, the fourth time if Shane was counting right.

"моя любовь, please talk to me."

Ilya's eyes were pleading, they had been for the last two days and it was wearing Shane's resolve ever so thin.

"I do not understand what is making you so anxious, Shane, please."

Shane sighed, they were walking down the sidewalk on their way from lunch with the team. Something that already stressed Shane out on a good day but even more so with everything else.

"I'm just tired, Ilya, please leave it alone." He was trying so hard to be patient. Ilya was just worried and he didn't know what was going on. It wasn't his fault. It was Shane's. He just, he couldn't keep having this conversation or he'd lose it and spill everything and he knew he couldn't do that. Not if he wanted Ilya safe.

"This is not just tired," Ilya ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. "I know it's not, sweetheart, you are running yourself into the ground-"

"Ilya." Shane cut him off, his heart tugging sharply at the flicker of hurt in his husbands gaze at his harsh tone. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I just can't talk about it, okay? I can't."

But Ilya was stubborn and knew Shane better than anyone.

"No. Why? It is hard to say or you think you can't?"

And now it was veering into danger. He was getting to close to something and Shane, he couldn't- he- his eyes darted around. Could they be listening? Could they see? He couldn't just tell him right?

He had to stay quiet..right?

Just as he was debating it, deciding if he was maybe being irrational, a car whipped around the corner. It was going to fast and it was

Time seemed to slow.

It was angled directly where Ilya was standing a few feet in front of him and he couldn't see it. Couldn't see it because of Shane, because he was too focused on Shane's bullshit and it was barrelling right for him-

Shane hands shot out, his brain on autopilot as he yanked Ilya into his chest, pulling him back from the edge of the curb and spinning so his back now faced the oncoming car.

Ilya made a startled noise in his throat but circled Shane's waist with his arms, still not grasping the peril his life had just been in.

"Shane, what-" he saw Ilya's gaze stray over his shoulder, the car now speeding out of sight clearly angled from the path where Ilya had just been.

"Oh, was it close?" He murmured, then he huffed a laugh, "Stand less on curbs I guess, good lesson, мой любовь, I-" He turned back to face Shane and his words stopped in his throat.

Shane knew he probably looked bad, probably looked petrified. He could feel the tears welling in his eyes, so close to falling. That had almost hit him. It had almost killed him and Shane's last words would have been an argument.

Oh god.

"Woah, hey, no, no любимый. Look at me. Shane, look at me."

His hand came up under Shane's chin, his pointer and thumb turning his eyes up to meet Ilya's, the worry swirling there had increased ten-fold.

"Breathe, sweetheart, is okay. Everything is okay, we are safe."

But they weren't. Ilya wasn't so Shane wouldn't be either.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and promptly ignored it. This was more important than whatever brand deal his mom was sending him.

"Shane," Ilya leaned his forehead against his. "I need you to breathe, can you do that for me?" He questioned softly, his fingers stroking gently over the tension in Shane's jaw.

Shane nodded against him, forcing his lungs to cooperate, to follow the command.

"Good, so good for me мой любовь, so perfect. Just like that, keep going."

They probably looked like love sick lunatics to whoever was passing by but Shane found that he couldn't care. Couldn't give a single thought to the media storm that would likely come of it because Ilya had almost just died in front of him. Had almost been fucking flattened by a speeding out of control car.

"Shh, shh, breathe, sweetheart." Ilya's hand came up to cradle the back of Shane's head, drawing him into his shoulder. Shane went willingly, his arms clinging to him.

"That almost hit you." he choked out, the words like glass in his throat.

"Maybe close, but its okay, we are fine."

Shane shook his head.

"No, Ilya, no it was so close if you had been standing right there it would have-you'd be -it"

His breathing stuttered.

"Ah, Shane, easy. Breathe, in with me" Ilya took an exaggerated breath that Shane tried to follow.

"Good, so good, Shane. Again." Shane followed his easy commands like that, uncaring of the time as it passed.

After what was either five minutes or five years, Ilya pulled back just enough to meet Shane's eyes.

"You spun us."

Shane raised a brow, confused. Ilya's eyes were hard, one might think he was angry but Shane knew this look well by now. He was scared. This had scared him too.

"Shane" He drew out the name, prompting him.

"What do you mean?"

Ilya smoothed a hand over his cheek, his thumb tracing over his freckles.

"You thought the car was going to hit me and you pulled us around, put your back to the car."

Oh.

He had done that hadn't he? It was just instinct, a reflex to protect that he saw no reason not to follow in that moment. No reason to not have followed it now either.

He shrugged, not sure of the issue.

"No. Shane, no. You do not do that."

"Do what? Ilya, what's wrong?"

Ilya leaned closer, pressing a hard kiss to his forehead like he was trying to press the words directly into his brain.

"You do not put yourself in harm's way like that, never. Especially not for me."

Shane shook his head slightly in Ilya's grasp.

"What? Ilya, of course I'm going to, you can't ask me not to try and keep you safe. I love you."

Ilya shook his head and Shane could see the moisture in his eyes, a wounded sound crawled up his throat and he pulled the farther from the open sidewalk, more into a secluded alley to the side. He brought his hand up, gently brushing the tears from Ilya's face.

"Ilya.."

"I can't do that, I can't have you throwing yourself in front of me like that. What if it had hit you instead, Shane?"

"I-"

"And I saw that, and knew that if it weren't for me you would be safe. Shane, I can't-" his breath hitched on a sob. "I can't."

"I can't either, Ilya."

"Promise me, Shane."

Shane shook his head vehemently.

"No, Ilya, no. I won't promise not to keep you safe if I can. I won't."

"I would not be okay without you, Shane. You being safe is keeping me safe."

"Ilya-"

"It is not fair, not right. Selfish of me to say this, unhealthy Galina would say, but I can not live without you, sweetheart. I won't. I won't survive it. There is no me without you, моя любовь. Without you, I am nothing. So, you can't put yourself in danger, no for anything, but not for me, never for me. Tell me you understand."

The weight of the words settled over them, so similar to Shane's own thought process the last week.

"Tell me you understand. Please."

It was the plea that broke him.

"I understand."

And he did, he did better then anyone else ever would. But understanding was not the same as abiding by that rule, not the same as promising Ilya he'd let nature or otherwise run its course if it decided Ilya Rozanov's time was up. He'd claw him back with aching bleeding hands until nothing could take him anymore.

Ilya sagged slightly in relief and pressed his mouth to Shane's, his tongue sliding in, tasting, feeling, learning and relearning over and over again. It was slow, tender, comforting in a way Shane had been needing since he'd gotten that text six days ago.

"Home time?" Shane asked, a smile quirking his lip.

Ilya smiled in response.

"Very good idea, моя любовь, I think Anya is missing us."

Shane snorted, "Missing her afternoon treat more like."

Ilya gasped, affronted, one hand coming up to his chest in mock offense while the other slid down to grasp at Shane's hand tightly.

"I am all the treat she needs, her favorite dad."

Shane glared at him.

"Fuck you, I'm her favorite." He wasn't, they both knew it.

"Good try but no."

"Asshole."

Ilya kissed his cheek lightly.

"But you're my favorite."

They walked back to the car, hand in hand, slightly farther from the road than usual. A hand on one another the entire time.

And when he and Ilya slid into bed that night, Ilya curled around him, Shane could almost pretend everything was alright.

Ilya drifted off as Shane unlocked his phone, finally going to respond to the text he'd been neglecting from his mom since this afternoon. Ilya and him having occupied the hours with some of the most grounding sex he'd ever had.

Only, it wasn't his mom.

His heart dropped, dread pooling in his stomach.

Comeau:

Thought you could use a reminder. Motivation to keep quiet.

And below it, a picture of the car from this afternoon.

~

Week 2:

The week after the car incident everything seemed to be going better. Shane was joking more, laughing more, he wasn't hunched over with anxiety every second of the day. It was better.

Only, no it fucking wasn't.

Ilya could see it, he could see it in every minuscule move that Shane made. He could see the carefully concealed tension, the way he got stricter about his food, the control he seemed to be desperately seeking wherever he could, the tightness around his eyes that never quite faded these days.

It wasn't better.

Shane had just gotten better at pushing it down. So much so, Ilya half-wondered if maybe Shane himself believed nothing was amiss.

Still, Ilya could tell with a hundred percent certainty that Shane wasn't going to budge. It was like the car had reset him, just when Ilya had thought he was getting through to him, Shane had done a full restart. All the progress Ilya had made when attempting to get him to share had been pushed back to zero.

Ilya was frustrated.

Not at Shane, at the circumstances. At whatever it was that made Shane so scared to tell him.

He was still functioning normally, his level of care with Ilya hadn't gone down in the slightest, he still reminded him about his meds, still checked in with him daily, still made sure Ilya had an appointment or a hug if he needed it. By all intents and purposes, Shane appeared fine.

Shane hadn't slacked on his love for him or for the other obligations and relationships he had so what was the problem?

Ilya almost snarled at the thought itself.

The problem was that even though Shane was doing everything in his power to stay calm and stay in control and let nothing slip through the cracks, there were things slipping through the cracks. They all had to do with Shane's health.

He was eating less, saying he'd forgotten or simply wasn't hungry, he'd been running himself ragged in the rink too, Ilya didn't think he was sleeping all that much either if the circles under his eyes perpetually darkening meant anything. He was completely neglecting his own needs.

He'd forgotten his headphones multiple times this week despite usually never leaving without them in case the world became too much. He was quieter when the others weren't there, quieter than usual.

Ilya was trying to be there, trying to help somehow but Shane was dissapearing into himself in a way Ilya hadn't really seen from him before.

He'd brought it up to Galina as well but short of Shane telling him what was going on, the only he could do was make sure Shane had eaten something before pulling him into bed and letting him relax.

Everything about it was grating on him, the last five days had been nothing but Shane trying to prove to himself and everyone else that everything was fine.

'Fine.' Ilya was beginning to hate that word, more than he usually he hated english words.

He looked over at his husband, seeing the way his shoulders were tense, even in their bed. Ilya wished he felt like he could tell him what was going on in that beautiful head of his.

He wasn't sure what he'd do if Shane kept this up for much longer. Maybe lock them in a room until he spilled? Stand in the doorway before Shane's morning run and not move until Shane gave him something? Ilya didn't know the best action to take to get him to talk but he didn't need that right now. No, his husband needed care, softness, somebody to remind him that he had people in his corner, ready to help him however he needed.

"Shanya," Ilya murmured, trying not to break the relative that settled over the room. "Come here, sweetheart."

Shane looked over, his brow furrowed. Ilya reached up and pressed lightly at the spot, smoothing away the look as a soft smile spilt over Shane's lips. It usually Ilya's favorite sight, but today there was just enough tension in that smile to set him on edge.

"I still have to respond to this email, mom said it needed to be done soon."

Ilya nodded, his hand coming down to rest on his cheek. He allowed himself a few seconds to brush lightly over his freckles, the world feeling less heavy for a moment.

"I know, моя любовь, but maybe we put it away for tonight, yes? And you come lay down while I crush you like a bug."

He let a cheeky smile find its way to his lips.

Shane huffed a slight laugh and Ilya couldn't help but feel somewhat triumphant.

"It will just take a second, promise."

Ilya shook his head, a groan working its way from his throat.

"No, любимый," he knew he was whining. He didn't care. "Now, need your beautiful body under me."

He went to reach for Shane's phone, the item causing this hold up.

Shane snatched it quickly away from him, his eyes slightly panicked.

Ilya paused. He and Shane weren't typically that worried about each other being on their phones. Shane had definitely never done something like that before.

"Shane?" He spoke tentatively.

"I just-there's something on my phone that's a surprise. You can't see it yet."

The words came out stilted and almost like a question. Ilya raised a brow, if Shane didn't want to discuss it then they wouldn't. Tonight was about Ilya deep pressure therapying his his husband out of his mind so he'd finally get some sleep. Ilya didn't care about the phone.

He knew other people might be worried if their partner had pulled a move like that, but not Ilya. He wasn't worried Shane had gone off and found someone new. He was just worried that whatever this thing was was going to eat at him until he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Okay, surprise. Put the phone away, любимый, I want live in your skin. Come."

Shane breathed a sigh but the slight smile on his face screamed fond. He placed his phone on the bedside table and allowed Ilya to situate him underneath him, pinning his body into the mattress with his weight.

Shane blew out a long breath, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

"Thank you." Shane whispered and Ilya scoffed, his mouth coming up to press a soft kiss to Shane's forehead.

"Do no thank me, солыншко, I do this because I love you."

Shane shuddered beneath him and more of the tension bled from his frame. Ilya was calling this a win.

"я тебя люблю, Ilyusha."

Ilya felt the warmth in his chest bloom as he always did when his love spoke like that. He tightened his grip.

They'd be okay.

Ilya would make sure of it, he wouldn't let anything else fuck with his husband, with their happiness.

This time, Ilya stayed up until Shane dropped off, his hands carding gently through his hair and pressing tender kisses to his head and cheeks. At least he knew Shane would get some rest tonight.

He let his eyes fall shut, the steady weight of his husbands breaths enough to lull him to sleep.

~

Week 3:

No more threats since the car. No demanding anything. Nothing, Just fucking nothing.

They were toying with him, they had to be. They knew the waiting would drive him crazy and they were just hoping to see when he finally cracked.

The game was next week, and still, radio silence. They wouldn't try something at the game would they?

He glanced over where Ilya sat beside him, his hand on his thigh beneath the table as Weibe spoke to the team. He should be listening right now, but he couldn't. His brain was going a mile a minute and nothing he did was stopping it.

They wouldn't try to hurt Ilya at this game would they? Try to disguise it as a regular hockey hit when Shane knew it was more than that? Knew it was an attempt to steal everything Shane had ever wanted.

So he was nervous, and anxiety ridden but he let it show a bit more. He had a reason now, the game was next week. It was his first game with Ottawa against his former team that had discarded him like trash, it would make sense if he was a little extra on edge. He had feeling though that while he fooled the Centaurs, he had not fooled Ilya.

Ilya hadn't tried to talk to him about it again either, he'd opted for doing something else. Something somehow worse than Shane had imagined.

He was…soothing him.

Not in a big way, nothing that would be noticeable to their team or family, but Shane saw. He knew exactly what he was doing.

It was the quiet type of care that made Shane want to vomit out everything he'd been holding back. It wasn't that Ilya didn't do these things regardless of Shane's mental state, no, his husband was insanely attentive towards him day in and day out. It was the way he was doing it.

In the mornings, when Shane woke up for his run, Ilya turned over for his morning kiss just like always, only this time he was slightly more awake than usual.

This time he ran his hand gently through the back of Shane's hair in a calming motion and made the kiss just a touch softer than he typically would.

Shane noticed the first time he did it, at the start of the week after the 'phone incident'. And now he was noticing it and everything else as the week wore on.

The way Ilya helped make sure Shane had all his things before they left for practice, he'd been forgetting things, he knew that. It just…hadn't mattered to him as much as everything else that was going through his mind. But Ilya saw, he always saw Shane.

So he made sure Shane had his headphones, his extra stick tape, his specific energy bar for mid-practice breaks, his extra pair of his exact brand of socks. All of it, every little thing that Shane hadn't thought to grab for himself in the wake of the texts, of worrying over Ilya's safety.

And it…helped.

It helped so much

It almost made Shane want to cry.

Ilya knew him so well, he knew how important Shane's routine was, how important every little step was. He'd seen how out of sync Shane had been with himself and he'd been taking steps to fix it in hopes it would help wind him down enough to tell Ilya what it was that was hurting him so much.

He loved him so fucking much.

"моя любовь?"

Shane's eyes shot up, he'd been zoning out again. He'd been doing that a lot this week, the anticipation of the game was getting to him just not in the way it should have been.

He should be worried about winning, about showing his former team the mistake they had made, about showing every single one of them (except Hayden, and maybe JJ) that he was still Shane fucking Hollander and he would always be on top whether it was with the Metros or not. That wasn't why he was dreading the game though. He found he didn't really care about all of that in the slightest anymore. The thing that was sending him spiraling was what they would do.

To him. To Ilya.

It was spiking his nerves in a way he'd only felt when they were outed last year. It was a kin to that feeling but also ten-fold, all day, he could not be wound tighter as the days wore on if he tried.

"Shane?"

Shit.

"Hmm?" He met Ilya's worried gaze. He hated the way he was keeping that look on Ilya's face so much the past few weeks. He was trying to hard not to worry him but he just couldn't relax.

"I asked if you wanted your snack bar."

That's when Shane noticed the bar in his hand, his favorite flavor. He hadn't been able to stomach it earlier. Ilya and him had just changed out and the rest of the team were slowly filing out of the room around them, he tried his best to ignore the worried looks being shot their way.

He knew the team had noticed Shane's nerves, had been trying to help in their own way. Good-natured teasing like 'Don't worry, Hollzy, we'll destroy em' or 'no way they'll get past Hollander and Rozanov, we got this in the bag'. It only helped ease the weight a little.

Shane held out his hand for the bar and Ilya placed it in his palm, his fingers lingering over Shane's.

He reached up then, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to Ilya's cheek. Ilya raised a brow but a small smile slid onto his lips. Shane still wasn't as big on PDA as Ilya was but he had his moments. And Shane had decided he needed it today. He had also made the decision weeks ago that Ilya would have his full attention and love regardless of how stressed Shane got. He refused to make the same mistake he had before their wedding that allowed Ilya to be in pain without him knowing.

"Love you, thank you." He meant it for more than the energy bar and he was sure Ilya had understood that from the way his smile dimmed just slightly and he nodded back.

"I love you, always, sweetheart."

It made his heart clench. He just wanted it to be over, he wanted to tell Ilya, he wanted everything to be okay for them for once. He fucking hated the metros, this situation, the way they could never be allowed to just love each other.

Shane tore into the bar as he and Ilya grabbed their bags and headed towards the car, soon, Shane told himself, soon Shane would figure this out and get it taken care of. Soon, Shane would be able to tell Ilya why he'd been such a fucking mess this month. Soon, they'd be able to continue their happiness with no cloud hanging over their head.

Soon.

~

Week 3:

The game was in five days.

Shane was more tightly wound than Ilya had ever seen him. Even when they were outed Ilya had at least been able to work some of the tension from him. Now though, he was at a loss.

He felt like a fucking failure.

He had been doing everything in his power to make this easier for Shane, he knew some of it was helping, but even still his husband was a wreck. He was exhausted, everyone could see that, he was using every last piece of energy to play as well as he was, to care for Ilya.

He wished that Shane would just let himself go for just a minute. Just let Ilya hold him, and love him, as he broke down.

He knew a breaking point was coming, there was no way Shane could keep going like this for much longer and while Ilya would give anything to just let him fall so he could catch him, he knew his Shane was stubborn. He'd keep fighting the fall until nothing could stop it.

And Ilya would be here whenever that happened, no matter what.

He just didn't know if it'd be before or after the game.

He set both his and Shane's breakfast down, his own, a plate of bacon and eggs, orange juice on the side. Shane's, a green spinach smoothie, made exactly how he likes it.

He watched as Shane took a sip, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone, he glanced up and gave Ilya a small smile.

"Thank you"

Ilya leant over and pressed a kiss to his head, all soft and tender.

"Of course, солыншко"

Shane set his phone down, "I want to get some early skate practice in, come with me?"

Ilya smiled at the hopeful look in his eyes.

"I always want to come with you, любимый"

Shane rolled his eyes, a scowl on his face, but he couldn't quite contain the smirk trying to cross his lips.

"Yeah, asshole, answer the question."

Ilya laughed, taking a bite of his eggs he pretended to think it over. More time with his husband? Or more time hanging out with Anya and watching the new Russian soap opera he'd started? It was close he'd say, but Shane would win every time.

"Yes, I'll join you."

Shane smiled and Ilya's chest felt instantly lighter, it had become increasingly difficult to get that look out of Shane recently. He'd skate as early as he wanted if it made Shane look at him like that every time.

Shane stood up, his shake in hand. "Okay, finish your breakfast, we'll leave in ten."

His forever planning and routine based husband. God he loves him.

When he gave a nod, Shane walked off, likely getting all of his gear ready to bring to the stadium. While Ilya knew that Shane liked to skate any time of the day or night, he also knew that this 'extra practice' was more than that. It was Shane grasping at what he could control, what he could do to improve before the game next week. This was more of him trying to get ahead of the storm that Ilya was sure was coming, sure had been coming for the last month.

He would go along with it though. If this was Shane clawing for some modicum of control, he'd claw with him. Ilya knew a collapse was coming, knew there wouldn't be enough for Shane to hold on to soon enough, his job was just to be here now. He wouldn't keep trying to get Shane to talk to him, at least not until after the game had passed if it didn't right itself then. He would just be there. A pillar of support for Shane to lean against, unmoving, unchanging. He knew this was the best he could do for him now and he'd do it unflinchingly, happily, for however long he needed to.

Shane was everything to him, without him nothing else mattered. Doing this, just being here? That was at the very bottom of the spectrum of things Ilya was willing to do for him. He'd destroy the world if Shane so much as asked.

"Ready?"

Shane stood, gear bag on and athletic clothes hugging his svelte curves.

Ilya smiled, "Always."

Always.

~

Week 4, Game Day:

Shane was fucking losing it.

He was coming apart at the edges, his nerves were on fire. His body felt like it was buzzing, like there were bee's in his skin trying to burrow their way out.

It was here, finally here. The day Shane had been dreading since the start of the season but really only dreading to this extent since he'd gotten that text earlier this month.

He'd received one more text as well, it'd greeted him with the all the subtlety of a wrecking ball that morning.

Comeau:

Keep him close, Hollander.

That was it, that's all he'd gotten and somehow it was worse than if he'd written out an entire paragraph detailing the things they would do, where, and when they would do them. The ambiguity of it was eating him alive.

He'd almost had a panic attack this morning, the only thing that'd held it off was Ilya rubbing soothing circles into his back, murmuring a mix of gentle Russian and English as he worked to calm him.

And now they were on the ice, doing warm up stretches as they would for any other game. Only this time, Shane could see the contempt, the anger, the betrayal in each of the metros eyes, barring JJ and Hayden.

Comeau had smirked at him already, his eyes knowing and cruel as the darted between him and Ilya. Shane had instinctively angled himself between Comeau and his husband. He'd stay between them all night if he could.

The Centaurs were hungry for it, the locker room had already been a mess of testosterone and excitement, Ilya doing nothing but hype them up. Both teams were out for blood. Shane just hoped it was normal hockey violence but at this point, he didn't think it would be.

He hadn't really left Ilya's side since they'd entered the arena either. It wasn't a huge change from their normal routine but he saw Ilya's raised brow when he'd followed him to fill his water bottle when he would usually hang out in the locker room.

Whatever, as long as Ilya was safe he could look at him weird whenever he wanted.

"Ready, Hollz?" Shane glanced over to where Bood was watching him, his eyes calculating but his smile easy.

"As I'll ever be" He tried for that similar easiness but he knew it came out stilted.

"Don't worry Hollzy, we got this. We'll knock em dead on home ice tonight, they'll be crying." Hazy smiled.

Dykstra skated by with a loud whoop and Haas joined him as he finished his stretches.

Shane gave them all a nod of thanks.

"We got your back, we aren't like them. They'll regret ever trading you, swear it." Bood met his gaze with a seriousness Shane felt a ball of warmth at.

He gave him a nod, "Thank you, I know you guys got us."

"Got that right," Barret said knocking his helmet into Ilya's.

Ilya met his gaze.

"We will win this."

All the guys let out a loud cheer that had the metros eyeing them with disdain. Shane didn't care much about that though, too relieved at his teams support.

He'd had so little of that with Montreal.

"I know we will, just try not to get into too many fights, alright? We need everyone on the ice for this."

He looked at Ilya, his eyes sharp. He thought, for a moment, Ilya would fight back, whine about wanting to pummel one of his former teammates, but instead he just nodded.

"You heard him, every one on the ice tonight."

He was forever grateful to his husband.

He blew out a steadying breath. They had this. His team had his back, they had Ilya's back. This game would be brutal but he had hope that it wouldn't be world ending. He just had to get through this game and get his husband back home in one piece. He'd done it hundreds of times before and now wouldn't be any different if he didn't let it.

Never had to fend off threats to your husband before though, have you?

~

The game was in fact fucking brutal. The metros spared no mercy to them, every window there was for a hit, they'd take it. Even if there wasn't a window, even if the checks, shoves, high sticks were all illegal or bordering on illegal they still did it. This wasn't about a win for them, it was about cruelty, it was about making a point.

Shane had been taking the brunt of it and by second period, his body was one big bruise. He ribs ached as he turned, his face had been bloodied by a high stick late first period but he'd refused to be benched. Every inch of his legs and arms felt battered and bruised.

The only good thing about this game was the score, Ottawa was leading 3-1. Ilya had made one of those, Shane the other two. Maybe he'd get a hat trick despite their twisted fucked physiological torture this past month. Still, it was the type of score that made Shane confident they'd pull through but not the kind that meant they could let off the gas even for a second.

They were heading into the third when things took a turn.

The metros had been going after his team too, but nothing had put any of them out of commission yet, they were erring just on the side of manageable. It didn't stop Ilya from trying to take their attention off Shane, it had earned him a couple decent hits in second period especially, but it wasn't a concerning amount of targeting.

That changed as soon as Ilya stepped onto the ice for a shift change with Barrett.

Shane saw the decision being made across the ice. The way Comeau looked over to Drapeau, the nod from Drapeau, the way Comeau set his shoulders and a feral grin that was all teeth took over his face. His eyes were honed in on Ilya, like he was going for the kill. And his husband wasn't watching for it, didn't know the danger he was in. It was like the car all over again, Ilya, too close to the curb, unaware of it hurtling towards him. And Shane, helplessly watching as it barreled for the only thing that made life worth it.

Shane took off, puck forgotten, game set to background noise. Nothing else mattered except for shielding Ilya from the damage.

He doesn't think he'd ever skated faster. Nothing had ever mattered as much as this moment did. Nothing had ever meant so much to him. If there was a single time he needed to be perfect, needed to be in control it was this one and he wasn't going to fail. It wasn't an option.

He picked up speed, his legs pumping, his skates gliding over the ice, he felt more like he was flying than skating.

For a moment, he thought he'd be too late, thought he'd be too slow to stop it. Too slow to get between them as Comeau made for Ilya. But then, he saw it. An opening between Hayden and Dykstra that he took without hesitation.

It made all the difference.

Comeau slammed into Shane, the air abruptly knocked from his lungs as his back met the ice with a crack that shook him to his core. It lit up every other sore peace of him and for moment, he couldn't move, could only gasp as he tried to fight for the air that had been brutally stolen from him.

"You little bitch," Comeau snarled, he could hear the anger, the vitriol in his voice. Shane didn't care, he'd made it. He'd made it and Ilya was safe.

Shane still couldn't get a breath in when Comeau leaned closer.

"Told you to keep him close, didn't I?" A twisted grin stole across his face.

Now Shane's breathing hitched for a new reason.

He threw his head back, his eyes darting over the rink in search of Ilya. Fuck, fuck.

Drapeau was coming from his other side, but Ilya was too focused on getting to Shane to see him, and Shane couldn't drag in the air to warn him.

His hands scrabbled against the ground, his chest heaving, panic was clawing in his lungs.

They wouldn't kill him on the ice right? They couldn't, they couldn't please they can't.

Just when Shane thought he'd have to watch his husband hit the ice while he could do nothing, Bood was there.

He yanked Ilya's jersey back, Drapeau just barely missing him as he flew at them. Ilya's head snapped around, his glare on Bood striking, before he saw Drapeau cutting his skates into the ice in a bid to turn back to them and his eyes narrowed.

Play was paused as Shane was still wheezing on the ground, Comeau was up and off him, his sick grin still in place even as Drapeau missed his mark. It made Shane's stomach tense.

"Sweetheart," Ilya knelt down beside him, gently maneuvering his helmet off as Bood and Hazy yanked Comeau away.

Shane's breathing was still harsh and choppy but he nodded up to his husband.

"Fine, m'fine, just winded."

Ilya's lips flattened, not at all happy with that answer. He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to Shane's forehead all the same.

"Okay, okay, you're okay? Didn't break anything?" His hands skated over ribs, his sides, back up to his head as he looked at his pupils. "Don't feel dizzy?" He smoothed a hand through his hair.

Shane pushed himself up a bit, Ilya helping with his hands moving over his sides and hips.

The medics stayed off the ice but watched for a sign that they were needed.

"I'm okay, I'm good, I can play."

"Shane" His tone was warning, not the time to lie.

"I know, I'm good, Ilya. Promise I'm good, let's just finish this."

Ilya watched him closely for another second and then helped him get to his feet, his eyes narrowed.

"You will tell me if that changes."

"I will." Shane replied, though it wasn't really a question.

"Okay, go take a shift, let the medics fuss. Comeau got penalty anyway, he'll be off the ice for five minutes."

Shane nodded, that was too blatant not to warrant a penalty of some kind and he could use a second to catch his breath anyway.

Ilya squeezed his hip and Shane grabbed his helmet as he skated back to the bench, allowing the medics to swarm him even as he reassured them he was alright. Weibe shot him a look to confirm it and Shane nodded to him as well.

He'd be on the ice for the last few minutes, on the ice with Ilya as they won against his former team, the same team that couldn't leave him in peace no matter how much he wished for it.

He nodded again, this time to himself. He'd finish this tonight. No matter what.

~

They won.

The final score came out to 5-2, Shane getting his hat trick right as the buzzer went off.

His team flooded the ice, making a protective ring around him and Ilya. The metros hadn't let up even with the penalty in the final minutes, and Shane had taken to blocking more and more of their attempts against Ilya. He saw the worry in both his husband and when he and Hayden would lock eyes across the ice.

He couldn't find it in him to care as they celebrated right now though. They'd done it, he'd done it. He'd proved himself again, not that he needed to as Ilya always told him, but it'd felt good nonetheless.

The high of it lasted all the way to the locker room before Ilya was spinning him into his locker, his eyes alight and furious.

"What the hell was that, Shane?"

Shane's brow furrowed, his smile dimming as he looked up at him.

"What was what?"

Ilya huffed, "You, blocking, all fucking night. You taking every hit you could from them, being their punching bag. That, Shane. What was it?"

Shane looked away, the intensity in Ilya's eyes too much to focus on right now, the team was slowly filtering in and grabbing their post-game shower stuff. He didn't want to do this right now, not after a win, not with the team right there.

"Can we do this later?"

Ilya laughed, it was mean.

"Later? This has been weeks, weeks of you avoiding talking, telling me what is going on. I can not keep doing this. Something is wrong, has been wrong. It started with that car, maybe earlier and it's still here. Was on the ice tonight. What is it, Shane. Please."

Shane bit his lip, hard, trying to keep the torrent of emotions at bay. He just wanted to go home, get Ilya home safe. That was the last thing he needed to do tonight, he could break after that. He just needed to get them home.

"Ilya-"

"No, we will not sit here and go back and forth again. I can not keep watching you, yo- kill yourself with this, I can't."

Shane's eyes shot to his, his face falling even further at the tears in Ilya's eyes, at the words he'd used.

kill yourself

I can't

can't

"I'm not ki-"

"You are, моя любовь. You are not eating, not sleeping, running yourself into the ground with training, with everything, with trying to keep it together. I know, I have seen it. And I can not watch it anymore, I won't, so we will do this now."

Can't watch it

Won't

can't

He was telling Shane he couldn't deal with it anymore, couldn't deal with this. Couldn't deal with the constant anxiety and worry, the tension that Shane exuded perpetually. That he couldn't be around it anymore. Be around him.

He was going to lose him anyway, wasn't he?

Maybe that had been the plan.

Make Shane so insufferable, so hard to be around, to be with that Ilya, forever patient and loving Ilya had reached his limit. He'd tried so hard for the last month and he was done.

He may not be dead.

But he was done.

Shane would be alone, knowing that he'd had Ilya and had chased him away by being himself, by being so tightly wound that no one could stand being near him anymore.

This was his punishment, his penance for the lies, for the betrayal. It was for him to lose everything, and have it be no one's fault but his own. It truly was the perfect plan, he supposed, he'd have to give it to Comeau. This was a hell he hadn't thought of before this moment.

"Shane" the word broke though and he realized his breathing had gone erratic. "Shane, мой любовь, you need to breathe. Sweetheart, please."

A hand pressed to his chest, the other pulling his hand to rest against Ilya's.

"Follow me, yes? Just breathe, любимый." A hand came up to settle on his neck.

"You will make yourself sick, Shanya, breathe. Just in with me," The voice took an exaggerated breath, chest rising and falling beneath Shane's hand.

But he was too far away, his vision was tunneling and his brain was whirling.

He would leave

leave

leave

Shane would be alone, all alone, it's his fault, all his fucking fault.

"Shane, look at me, please. Your breathing is too fast, you will pass out. Shane, please"

He heard a flurry of voices around him, he felt himself being guided to a seat.

"Shane, one breath, that's all I need. One breath for me, Shanya. You are safe, we are safe here. We are with our team, we're safe, sweetheart."

But Shane couldn't really hear anymore, his vision was becoming black at the edges, the world slowly closing in on him. His chest felt tight, so tight he couldn't get air in anymore. Everything was blocked, his couldn't feel his arms, his legs, his head felt like it was full of cotton. He couldn't see anything. It all hurt, everything hurt.

This is his life, this is it. He was dying and he couldn't even say goodbye to Ilya.

He doesn't want a goodbye, 'he can't', remember?

The world faded, Shane went with it.

~

"Bood get the medic."

Ilya's voice was sharp and panicked even to his own ears.

"Shane, моя любовь." He could feel the tears on his cheeks but he paid them no mind. "Shane, sweetheart, you are safe. I have you, I will not let anything happen just breathe for me. Breathe, baby. Please."

He was desperate, cradling Shane's face, his eyes were unseeing, stuck somewhere as he breathed to quick, to harsh.

"Roz, be ready to catch him" Barrett was beside him, Hazy on his other side, close enough to support but far enough not to crowd.

"You are safe, see? Hazy is here, Barrett's here, safe my love." He was pleading with him but he knew Shane wasn't hearing it now.

"Ilya?"

He didn't take his eyes off Shane as he heard Yuna's voice, they had both come to watch their first home game against Montreal.

"He will not breathe, how do I get him to breathe. Yuna, I am trying but he-" His words choked on a sob.

"Okay, okay, David grab that towel go run it under cold water and come back, Ilya, honey look at me." He tore his gaze off Shane, but he couldn't stop his eyes from darting between them.

"He's going to be just fine, I promise."

Ilya shook his head, "No, no, it has never been so bad. I don't know what to do."

"He-"

Her voice cut off and Ilya moved, thankful for his quick reflexes as Shane's eyes rolled back and his body went limp.

A strangled noise tore from Ilya's throat as his arms came quickly around him, one hand coming up to cradle his head to his chest as he brought him into his lap on the floor where he had been since Hazy had suggested they sit.

He was murmuring soothing words, both to himself and Shane as he brought him to a stop in his lap.

"Shh, shh, Shanya, I have you. I have you, wake up please, пожалуйста. I need you, I need you. You need to wake up now."

"Ilya, I need you to lay him on the ground for me." Yuna's calm voice cut through the air and Ilya met her eyes.

"Is cold." He mumbled, holding Shane closer to him, he was reluctant to be even an inch away from him right now. His hand was carding through his hair, trying to rouse him.

"I know, he gets overheated when he's like this strip his gear and lay him out."

With no other course of action, he nods. Guiding Shane ever so gently to lean on his shoulder as Bood helps strip his gear and then he's lying in his under layers, his head on Ilya's lap.

David came back with the cold towel moment later and Yuna took it, nothing but authority in her presence.

"Good, Ilya hold it to the back of his neck, David get his legs and hold them elevated. Did somebody get the damn, medic?"

Ilya nods, "Bood, he will be here soon."

"Alright" Then she kneels down, grabbing one of Shane's hands.

"Shane, honey. You awake?"

Maybe it was his moms voice, maybe it was the way Ilya was still stroking through his hair, tears still running down his cheeks, maybe it was the blood flowing from his legs towards his head but Shane's eyes began fluttering.

"Shane? Sweetheart, you are okay. We have you. I am here, your parents are here-"

At that moment the medic rushed in, Bood on her heels. A slim, black woman named Sherry knelt down at Shane's side, her braids flowing down her back.

"Hi, Shane, not feeling too hot are you?"

Shane groaned and Ilya could have sobbed in relief at the response, any response was better than the limp, noiseless weight he'd been a minute ago.

"Yeah, I figured. You're doing great though, just a bit of anxiety I think." Ilya thought that was an enormous understatement but agreed nonetheless.

"You with us, Shane?"

Shane groaned again, his hand, not holding Yuna's, coming up to rub at his chest.

"Feeling a bit tight?" Shane nodded from his place in Ilya's lap and Ilya took a minute to smooth over his cheeks.

"That can happen sometimes. It's normal, you're okay. We got you. Your families here, your husbands here. Think you can sit up for us?"

Shane nodded again, trying to move to do just that, Ilya move immediately, his hand sliding to Shane's back, helping to sit him up, his other hand moved to keep the cloth against his neck.

"Perfect, just like that."

She looked up, her eyes sharp as they met Ilya's.

"He hit his head on the way down?" Her voice was low, less gentle than it'd been with Shane.

"No, I had him."

"Good, that's good."

"How about we have a drink, Shane. How does that sound?"

Shane hummed and Ilya rubbed his hand over his back in light, grounding circles. Shane was leant up against his chest now, his breathing more even than it'd been in at least ten minutes though it'd felt like ten hours to Ilya.

"Awesome, Bood." Bood stepped forward, an apple juice passing between them. Thankfully it was one Shane liked. He'd thank Bood for that later.

She handed it to Ilya and once he made sure the cloth was stable he opened it bringing it to Shane's lips.

"Just a sip, моя любовь, that's all." Ilya murmured softly, one hand coming up to flit across his cheek.

Shane nodded, seemingly coming back to himself a bit. He let Ilya guide the bottle up just enough for him to get some of the juice but not enough to overwhelm him.

"How's that Shane, you know where you are?"

"Locker room." The word was meek, scraped from his throat. Ilya had never heard such a beautiful sound.

A phone buzzed off in the distance, Ilya ignored it. Whatever it was could fuck off.

"Good job, do you know who you are?"

"Shane Hollander."

"Perfect, do you know what happened?"

"Panic attack."

"Mm, pretty bad one, yeah?"

"Evidently."

"Shane, " David admonished.

Ilya laughed, a little stunned that he was already joking when Ilya's heart still felt like it couldn't calm down.

Sherry laughed as well.

"Evidently, indeed. Have these happened to you before, Shane?"

"Yeah." Ilya raised a brow, he'd never seen this in the thirteen years they'd known each other.

"When he was younger he'd get at least one a year. David, look at this." Yuna said, coming back over. Ilya wasn't sure when she'd left. She handed a phone to David.

No, Shane's phone.

Why did they need his phone?

"Have you ever tried medication for it?"

Shane shrugged, he was slowly coming back online.

"Okay, do you know what caused this attack?"

This time she looked at Ilya too, but he was just as clueless. Shane didn't typically get so panicky at a conversation even if it was one he didn't want to have. There had to be something else that set him off, maybe this was the crash they'd been fearing, the thing that had been making him spiral for weeks was finally coming to a head in this panic inducing way for them all.

"I-"Shane stiffened, everything coming to a standstill, his breath pausing in his chest, Ilya seized up in response.

"No, no, no, shh Shanya. You're okay, everything's okay, we're safe. I'm here, I have you. Not going anywhere, breathe."

He squeezed him tighter to his chest, his hand coming up to rub against his sides, anything to ground him back this moment.

"A breath, sweetheart, please breathe for me." Ilya pleaded, he never wanted to see Shane drop like that ever again, was certain it'd be living in his nightmares for years to come.

"Shane, honey, your dad and I are here. Everything's okay, we're gonna make it better, alright?"

Ilya glanced at her at that, make what better?

Now that he looked at her, underneath the lingering worry and panic, something else sat there. Something angry, rageful. It was not a look he was used to seeing on her, had maybe only seen once before back when he and Shane had been outed.

He'd figure that out later, he decided.

Shane nodded, sucking in a harsh breath. Ilya pressed a kiss to his head.

"Good, good моя любовь, just like that. Keep doing that for me."

He pressed another kiss, this time to his temple, swaying them just slightly.

"Take another sip, yes?" He brought the apple juice to his lips and waited for him to take a sip before moving to set it on the floor, that arm coming around his waist now, fingers rubbing soothing circles into his hip.

"Perfect, so good for me." A soft kiss to the nape of his neck this time.

"I'm okay, I'm good, Ilya."

Ilya made a noise of disbelief, he was very much not good thank you, he'd passed out in his arms not ten minutes ago.

"Okay, we'll talk about that later then," Sherry nodded, glancing from Shane's parents back to Shane. "How are you feeling now, still a bit dizzy?"

Shane paused before he spoke, his voice quiet. "A bit."

"Okay, that's perfectly normal. Expected even. We'll just take a minute then, let you catch your breath."

They all nodded, Ilya would sit there as long as Shane needed. He'd make them a home on the floor of the locker room if he had to. Whatever he needed.

They stayed there, Yuna having grabbed the hand she'd released to grab Shane's phone. David to on his other side now, no longer holding his legs, breathing slow and steady, a stable metronome for Shane to match. Ilya at his back, guarding him, running his hands across his side, his fingers through his hair in gentle, soothing motions.

At least five minutes had passed before Sherry spoke again.

"Any better, Shane?"

Shane nodded from his place on Ilya's lap.

"Less dizzy. Think I can sit up more."

Sherry nodded, "Go slow then, stop if you need to."

Shane slowly pulled himself fully upright and Ilya followed him, a shadow at his back as he breathed.

"Good, that's great, Shane. Have another sip of the juice, please."

Shane looked over and Ilya grabbed the bottle and handed it to him. Ilya couldn't help but notice the tremor still shaking through his hands. God, today had wrecked him, Ilya becoming wrecked along side him.

He took a few sips this time before setting it back down.

"Okay, I'm okay now. Sorry everyone."

Ilya shook his head even though Shane wasn't watching him, "No, you don't apologize for this. Is not your fault."

He saw David and Yuna nod in agreement.

"He's right, Shane. None of this is your fault, none of it."

There was that tone, that look, again. Just as confusing as last time. Ilya was missing something, he had to be. For some reason, he got the inkling that he'd been missing something for quite a while now.

He glanced at Yuna, a brow raised in question.

She looked to David and then made a motion with her hand. A second later, David was handing Shane's phone to Ilya.

"Wait, wait, what are you doing with that?" Shane asked, voice high and nervous.

Ilya glanced up at him, noting the anxiety in his face.

"Shh, sweetheart, just something Yuna wants me to look at. Nothing bad, okay?"

He pressed a kiss to Shane's head, unlocking his phone. His password hadn't changed, it made Ilya breathe a little easier. He knew in his very bones that Shane would never cheat, even as the weeks had gotten harder he'd never lost that. But that didn't mean he liked when Shane kept things from him, and he was sure this was one of those things.

"No, no. Ilya, wait. If he sees, he'll- I'm keeping you safe. Give me the phone, I promise I'm-"

'He'? Who was 'He'?

Keeping him safe from what?

But then Ilya saw it, the thread already pulled up in Shane's messaging app. A contact listed as Comeau at the very top. The last text sent being from him:

Fun game, think you kept him close enough, Hollander?

Ilya's brow furrowed, then he scrolled up to the next one, then the next, all the way back to the first text within the last month from him. Anger was building in his chest with each line he read. Each threat against his safety winding his husband tighter and tighter.

He ran through the events of the last month, every text seemed to correspond with Shane's anxiety further digging it's claws in. He paused at one, an image pulled across the screen.

A black car sat, above it, the message: Thought you could use a reminder. Motivation to keep quiet.

Ilya was fucking seething.

He met Shane's gaze, tears sitting, waiting to fall on his lash line.

"Ilya, they're gonna-I had to, I wanted to tell you so much but they, and the car, what if they kn- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Ilya please-"

His breath hitched on a sob.

"No, I an not mad, Shane I am not mad. Look at me, любимый." He brought his thumb and pointer beneath Shane's chin. "Look at me, I am not angry with you. You did nothing wrong, you were trying to keep me safe."

Shane watched him as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ilya stared at him unblinking, his thumb stroking lightly over his jaw.

"I lied to you."

He whispered, his eyes, devastated.

"You lied because they gave you no other choice. Is not the same." He leaned closer, pushing his forehead to Shane's. "I have you, I love you. I will not let anything happen. You are done now, you can rest. Yuna, David, and I have it now. We carry it together now. You've been strong for so long," He pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, tender. "So long, sweetheart, I have seen it. I'm sorry it took me so long to see, to understand."

Shane shook his head, quiet tears still falling down his cheeks. He didn't care about the others in the room, couldn't care. He was finally understanding what his husband had been dealing with this past month, what he'd been trying to manage, alone and terrified. Fuck, he was so strong, so stubborn, so fucking beautiful. Ilya loved him so much. He'd take this weight from him, Shane had carried it long enough.

Ilya was ready to fucking kill Comeau, to rip him apart. If he had been standing nearby he might have. He'd be fucking lucky to walk away if he and Ilya crossed paths again after today.

"Not your fault," Shane spoke quietly. "You still want this?"

Ilya furrowed his brow, want this? Want what? He pressed a kiss to Shane's cheek.

"Want what, моя любовь?"

"Me. You said you… can't."

Was is 'see how many times Ilya's heart can shatter day'? Because it sure as fuck felt like it.

"No, no Shane I meant I would sit there until you told me. That I can't stand by and watch you implode anymore. Not that I was done. Never, sweetheart, never. You will have to pry me off with crow bar."

Shane huffed a quiet laugh, Ilya felt a little high off it.

"A crow bar, huh?"

"Yes, but I will hide all of them. Never getting rid of me. Not ever."

"All of them seems like a lot."

"Well, I love you a lot, so it works, yes?"

Shane sighed, leaning further into him.

"Yes."

"Good, good."

He brought Shane forward to lean against his chest more heavily, his head coming to rest in the crook of Ilya's neck. His usual reluctance to PDA seemed non-existent today.

Ilya looked over his head to Yuna, his hand coming up to cradle the back of Shane's head and his other coming to rub up and down his back in long sweeps.

"I've already taken photos of the messages on my phone and we can fill in the blanks of the next month tomorrow. I've messaged our lawyer and gotten in touch with the police, they'll be at your house by the time we arrive. David and I would like to stay with you boys tonight if that's alright?"

Ilya nodded at the influx of information, thanking his lucky stars, not for the first time, that Yuna was on their side.

He looked down at Shane.

"Sweetheart, can your parents stay with us tonight? You can say no, just tell me if you want just us."

"They can stay." The words were quiet but clear and the three of them nodded in understanding,

Doctor Sherry looked to Shane.

"Alright, it's been a long night for you all. I'm sure everyone is eager to get home. Congrats on your win, you two, and Shane, be sure to let me know if you need anything or if you start feeling more symptoms."

Then she turned her gaze to them, "If he had another one this bad, I would strongly recommend an urgent care, just for sedatives to make it through the night well enough. Just keep the environment calm, low energy, nothing loud or overly labor intensive. Straight home and to bed. If you can get him to drink the rest of the juice and maybe eat something light, that would be good. Let me know if you have any questions."

When they all acknowledged her she nodded and headed for the door. Ilya would make sure she had anything she needed for the foreseeable future for the help she'd given them today.

They sat there for another minute before Yuna sighed and stood, David following.

"Do you feel good enough to stand, honey?"

Shane groaned quietly but was pushing himself up slowly at the words, Ilya was instantly with him, his arms hovering beside Shane's torso.

He grabbed Ilya's hand.

"I'm okay."

Ilya nodded.

"I know." He knew Shane thought he was at least. "But I am not, so please keep holding me."

It was a bit of a dirty trick as much as it was true. He wasn't okay, this wasn't okay. But he'd make it okay again, for them.

Shane just smiled, a weak and fragile thing. If he ever saw Comeau again, he'd rip his throat out. For this, for making Shane worry, for driving Shane fucking batshit with paranoia. For making one of their precious months together a purgatory for Shane. But mostly for putting his husband through hell.

Ilya moved, pulling Shane with him as he stood, his hands steadying him.

He met Shane's eyes, "Good, not dizzy?"

Shane nodded and Ilya looked to Yuna and David, "You have your car? I want to sit with him in the back."

David gave him a small smile, "Good thinking, son. I'll go ahead, you guys follow when you can."

Yuna followed alongside them as they made their way carefully towards the car. Ilya gripped Shane's arm in a vice-like way, he just couldn't be made to be an inch further right now. He couldn't.

"Ilya," Shane spoke softly, Ilya's eyes shot over to his. "I promise, everything's okay."

"It will be." He pressed a kiss to Shane's temple.

Then, rapid footsteps made themselves known, the hall in front of them filling with a body. Everything in Ilya's body snapped tight, he moved in front of Shane, blocking him from whatever this became. The figure turned and Ilya huffed an annoyed breath, Hayden fucking Pike, every time.

"Shane, oh my god," He let out, turning to walk closer. Ilya didn't move, still a step in front of Shane. While he didn't think Hayden had anything to do with Comeau he still wasn't completely sure.

"I heard you passed out? What the fuck happened man, were one of those hits harder than we thought? I tried to get them to go easy, but they wouldn't budge. Nothing I said seemed to do anything. I'm so sorry, I know it must've been shit. Jackie's pissed too, she said she'd make some of that soup you like when you're feeling better, god I can't believe they would go thi-"

"Pike."

Hayden paused, catching his breath, he ran a hand through his hair.

"Sorry, yeah, just a little wound up."

Shane moved behind him, Ilya's hand tightening slightly on his arm. "I'm fine, Hayd's. Just a little lightheaded. Nothing to worry about."

They day Shane Hollander stopped minimizing his pain was the day Ilya would start believing in the tooth fairy.

"Actually," Yuna stepped forward, "Have you seen anything strange regarding your teammate Comeau this last month?"

Hayden's brow furrowed, "Comeau? No, not that I know of I don't think. Why?" He glanced up at Shane, "Did he do something? Is it why you passed out? Did he hit you harder to make you go down?"

Shane just shook his head, leaning more heavily into Ilya's side. Time to go. He no longer gave a fuck about anything Pike had to say. He adjusted his grip on Shane, his hand coming around his waist and squeezing at his hip.

"Nothing is certain yet. Keep this between us please, Hayden?" Yuna said imploringly.

"Of course, Shane if you need anything, Jackie and I are always here, yeah?"

"Yeah, Hayd's, I know. Thank you."

Hayden nodded, met Ilya's eyes, and then reluctantly walked back towards his own locker room area.

"Let's go, моя любовь."

Shane said nothing, only leaned forward as Ilya started them again on the path towards the car. He was out of words for the day, Ilya thought. That was fine though, Ilya would do the talking, he'd get him through the rest of the day, they'd talk tomorrow. They'd figure everything else out tomorrow.

Right now though, Ilya needed to get Shane home, he needed to get him food and water and in bed resting within the next hour or Ilya might fully lose his fucking shit.

When they arrived at the car he helped Shane get situated before doing up his own seatbelt. Lest Shane give him that angry kitten face he always loved to throw at him when he was slow to buckle in.

There was minimal talking on the ride to their home, only small back and forths from David and Yuna, Ilya guessed it was something to with the lawyer, something to do with threats. Something to do with the fact that his husband had been so out of his mind with panic that he'd passed out in Ilya's arms on the floor of their locker room and Ilya hadn't known what to do, hadn't pushed enough to stop it before it got to this point.

He shouldn't have dropped it, shouldn't have stopped trying to push for that conversation. Maybe this could have been avoided if he had.

He glanced down at where Shane was leaning against him, he knew he wouldn't be happy if he knew Ilya was blaming himself for this but he couldn't help it. Shane had been spiraling for weeks, and Ilya had known, he just hadn't known enough to put the pieces together and it was killing him. They'd talk about this later too, talk about how to avoid shit like this. Ilya wasn't sure how though, it's not like Shane didn't want to tell him, he thought he couldn't and those were very different.

Perhaps this was a lose-lose situation no matter how many times Ilya's brain tried to tell him different. Maybe they'd all tried their best to make this better and had all come up empty until now. And also, maybe Galina's therapy was helping. Just maybe.

He pressed a kiss to Shane's head as they came to a stop outside their home, he could already hear Anya barking excitedly behind the door, it made a brief smile light his face.

"Someone missed you." He murmured, his hand finding it's place on Shane's hip once more as they made for the door, Ilya could see police cars parked nearby, could see Yuna walking in their direction while David went to unlock the door for them. He paid it no mind, that would again be a tomorrow issue.

"Missed her too," Shane mumbled.

Ilya got him through the door and led him to the couch, thanking past Ilya for insisting they find one good enough to sleep on, he was more of the couch sleeper than Shane but he also hated waking up with a crick in his neck from it.

Now though, it would just be nice to be able to have Shane somewhere comfortable while he ate and drank something. Ilya knew better than to ask him to do it in their bed. He knew the crumb police would kill him whether Shane was in tip top shape or not.

He got him settled there, a blanket on his lap and Ilya at his side, David in the kitchen finding something Shane would be willing to snack on. A moment for just them.

"I'm sorry"

Ilya looked down, finding Shane staring up at him, eyes glassy. His hand came up to brush his cheek, shaking his head.

"Not your fault, sweetheart, do not say sorry for this."

"Maybe if I had just told you-"

"No, you were scared, you didn't know what to do. That is not a good place to be. They did that on purpose so you couldn't get help. That is not your fault. But we are here now and you will let us help, hm?"

Shane buried his face in Ilya's chest. "Yes."

Ilya hummed, pushing a hand through Shane's hair.

"Good, just relax, моя любовь. We have it now. You have been so strong. I love you."

"I love you too, thank you for taking it. Things were getting…heavy."

Ilya made a pained noise, holding him tighter.

"I know, we will figure it out though. Tomorrow we will figure it all out."

Shane nodded, sinking deeper into Ilya's warmth.

"Tomorrow."