Chapter Text
The energy in the team bus to the hotel was a bit subdued like it always was after a loss, but they'd all fought hard against Washington, so it wasn't too gloomy all things considered. Shane saw that Ilya's team had won big against Carolina that afternoon, so he was probably going to be sending some gloating texts at some point tonight. He checked his phone just as the bus started moving and didn't see anything yet, which was a bit odd. The Centaurs were headed to Tampa and should have landed by now, but Shane didn't see any texts or missed calls from Ilya. Shane tried to calm the uneasy feeling in his gut as he sent a quick text, letting Ilya know he would call once they were at the hotel.
"Holy shit!" J.J.'s voice cut through the low murmur on the bus. "The Centaurs' plane crashed on the landing in Tampa." Shane felt his veins turn to ice as the words registered and he tried to calm his breathing that was already starting to sound raspy and gasping.
"A— are they— is everyone okay?" He managed to ask through his panic. J.J. glanced down at his phone, then back over at Shane with a slightly confused expression on his face.
"It doesn't say anything specific, just that the engine failed. The plane made it to the runway, but the decent was coming too fast and the plane tipped to the side on the landing. So it wasn't like a big crash, but it wasn't a safe landing either. It doesn't say if anyone is hurt or—" He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't have to.
Shane was vaguely aware of Hayden beside him, putting a hand on his knee, then grasping Shane's hand with his other hand. He didn't say anything, likely not wanting to accidentally reveal too much, but the gesture combined with Shane's current state of panic was probably doing that already.
"Hey, dude are you okay?" J.J. asked, glancing from Shane to Hayden, then back to Shane again. His face was blurry through Shane's tear filled eyes, but he didn't need to see it clearly to know what emotions were playing across J.J.'s face. If Shane didn't get things under control right now, he was going to give his own secret away right here and now. But did he really care?
His phone shook in his trembling hands as he desperately tried to make the call, but he didn't have his glasses on and he was truly crying now so the screen was just a blur of light.
"I need to— I can't—" He gasped, and Hayden squeezed his hand before gently pulling the phone away from him. Then Shane heard the phone as it began to ring, and ring, and ring, and ring. Then there was silence, and then Ilya's snarky voicemail recording issued through the phone's speakers. Shane was going to be sick.
Hayden called three more times in the time it took for the bus to make the rest of the trip to the hotel and all of them had gone unanswered. With each one, Shane's panic only grew, and any remaining reluctance he had to reveal his relationship had melted away completely. All that mattered now was finding out if Ilya was okay, and getting to him as soon as possible. Hayden was about to call for the fifth time, when suddenly, Shane's phone was ringing. The caller ID showed Ilya's name.
"Ilya!" He nearly shouted the moment the call connected without even an attempt at a hello. Every single person on this bus was probably watching him right now but it didn't matter if he could hear Ilya's voice and know he was safe. But the voice that answer him was not Ilya.
"Hello, this is Dr. Marley, I'm a surgical intern at Tampa General Hospital. My I ask who I'm speaking to? This number was the most recent call in Ilya Rozanov's phone and the name was written in Russian so we weren't sure who might answer, but we're trying to get in contact with his next of kin."
"Beloved. It means beloved." Shane choked out through his tears as he tried not to think too hard about why an intern doctor would be calling him on Ilya's phone. "I— I'm Sh— Shane Hollander. I'm his next of kin. He's my boyfriend, we— I— I saw the news about the plane. Is he okay? Please tell me he's okay? He has to be okay."
"He's alive." Dr. Marley said after the tiniest moment of hesitation. 'Alive' was not the same as 'okay' and the long pause that followed did nothing to reassure him. "I'm very sorry. There's not much more I can tell you than that right now Mr. Hollander, but we're going to do everything we can for him."
"Is he— c—can I talk to him?" Shane stammered out, the words getting caught in his throat as he clung desperately to the last shreds of his composure.
"He's been in and out, and we're about to take him in for surgery." The doctor said, and he could hear the emotion creeping past her professional tone. He was a wreck, and everyone knew it, even this intern doctor who was probably on babysitting duty while her superiors did the real work. The little voice in his brain whispered that if Ilya wasn't in any danger, they would let the intern help with whatever minor procedure he needed instead of making her go through the patient's phone to find his next of kin.
"I'm going to put the phone next to his ear." She said gently, her voice taking on a soothing quality that made him wonder if she had any kids. "He may not respond, but hearing your voice will be good for him. We weren't sure what he was saying when he was brought in, but I think he was asking for you."
He'd barely managed to stumble out a response when the phone was switched to speaker on the other end and he could hear all the sounds around Dr. Marley more clearly. What had been muffled beeps and overlapping voices were now distinct and none of them sounded good. Voices called for assistance and barked orders at other personnel in the hospital and it occurred to Shane only then that the ER in that hospital was likely full of other passengers that were on the plane. Ilya had told him all about his team member's families and he wondered idly how many of them were in the exact same boat he was in right now.
"Okay Mr. Hollander" Dr. Marley's voice cut through the noise, pulling Shane back to the moment. "You can talk to him now."
"I— Ilya? It's Shane. C—can you hear me?" There wasn't any response that Shane could hear at first, but then there was a soft groan and a mumbling that might have been an attempt to say his name. Shane switched to Russian to make sure that Ilya would understand him in his current state. If it was the last words he heard, Shane didn't want them to be lost in translation. "Ilya, I love you so much. I'm coming as soon as I can, just please— please hold on for me. I'll be there waiting for you when you wake up. Okay? I love you, I love you so much, and I'm sorry for everything. I choose you. I choose you every single time. I love you."
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Shane had no idea how he'd made it off the team bus and inside the hotel, but he did know that Hayden and J.J. hadn't left his side the whole time. By the time he'd hung up the phone, he was crying and shaking so badly it was only Hayden's arms around him that kept him upright.
"Sit down right here." Hayden told him carefully, guiding him to a seat in some unknown room.
"No, no I have to go." Shane protested, pushing back against the solid force of Hayden and J.J.'s bodies. "I have to go, I— I have to get to him. I t—told him I would—"
"I know Shane, I know you did. We're going to get you there, but you need to sit down and let us handle this. I called your parents already and told them to meet us there. It's going to take some time to get from here to Tampa, but we'll probably still get there before them. We'll all get there as fast as we can, but need to sort things out first. Okay?" Shane barely comprehended the words Hayden was saying to him, but now that the adrenaline of the initial moment of panic had subsided, the fatigue from the game crashed down on him. His body seemed to give out on him all at once and Hayden had to steady him as he dropped down onto the hard hotel sofa.
"What do you mean 'we' Hayden?" He asked after his brain finally caught up and registered everything Hayden had said. He looked up and found both J.J. and Hayden kneeling in front of him and looking very concerned.
"He means 'we' Shane." J.J. said. "Us. We're going to Tampa together because you're crazy if you think either of us would let you get on a plane by yourself to fly across the country to get to your boyfriend after he was in a fucking plane crash. You're a wreck right now and we are absolutely not going to let you go through that alone."
"I thought you would be mad at me J.J." Shane mumbled as fresh tears welled up in his eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"I was afraid to tell you about Ilya because I thought you would be mad at me for being with him. Hayden wasn't exactly thrilled about it when I told him and I was scared." J.J. stared at him for a long time, then let out a long, shaky sigh before he stood up enough to sit down on the couch next to Shane.
"Listen, I'm not about to pretend like I'm totally chill about you being with fucking Rozanov. I don't even know what this really is or how long it's been going on—"
"Since 2008" Shane blurted out. He wasn't sure what made him say it, but at this point, it didn't even matter. Everyone had seen and heard him on the bus. They all knew, and it was shocking how much he couldn't even find it in himself to care anymore. As fucked up as everything was, there was a strange sort of relief in knowing that all the hiding and sneaking was over. He would probably freak out about it later, but it was too far down the list of things to freak out about at the moment to be a priority.
"2008? What the fuck? Are you serious?" J.J. muttered several curse words in French too quickly for Shane to catch exactly what they were. "How did it even— you know what never mind, it's not the time for that. Maybe I would have been mad if I'd found out under less… fucked up circumstances, but I didn't. I don't really understand it, but what I do understand is that when I told you about the crash and you couldn't even hold on to your phone to make a call, you looked like something in you had just died and if he's not okay, I don't even want to know what it would do to you after what I just saw. If he makes you feel like that, who the fuck am I to say anything about it?"
J.J.'s words were like a knife to his heart. He hadn't even realized how much everything he'd felt in that moment had shown on his face. He'd been clinging to his last shreds of composure, foolishly thinking he could remain calm enough that no one would know how terrified he was, but of course it had been written all over his face. If Ilya wasn't okay…no…J.J. was right, he didn't want to think about what would happen if…if nothing.
"He HAS to be okay." Shane said as the cold, half dried tear tracks on his face warmed with new additions. "If he's not okay I—" J.J.'s hand covered Shane's in his lap and squeezed.
"He IS Shane. He's going to be just fine, I promise."
Shane knew that J.J. couldn't possibly guarantee that. It was an empty promise that he had no way of knowing if he could keep or not. It shouldn't have been reassuring, but it was. Whatever horrors may or may not await him in a hospital in Tampa, he had his best friends with him, and for right now, that was enough.