Chapter Text
When Shane walked into the practice rink, ready to start training for the new season, he thought nothing would bring him back down to earth. After a summer at the cottage with Ilya where they had finally admitted to their love, and also being able to have his parents and his boyfriend – yes, boyfriend – in the same room without it being some kind of nightmarish horror story, well then no one could blame him for not being able to stop smiling.
He was just so happy. They have a plan, only a year of having to do the Montreal-Boston distance. Only one year until they’re only two hours apart without a border between them. One year until they can come out as friends and be seen in the same vicinity without question.
As Shane walked into the locker room, he set his bag down in his stall and started dressing into his practice gear. Just as he sat down to put his socks on, a couple of his teammates walked in. He smiled and nodded his head at them in greeting. As he was about to pull on his first skate, he froze.
A few more of the guys had piled into the room, their voices loud enough for everyone to hear.
“–Just hope our first match of the season is against him. Can’t wait to put that fag through the boards hard enough to be out for the season!”
The other guys Comeau was talking to laughed hard and booming.
“Fuckin’ aye!” Drapeau whooped.
“Wish the league would just kick him out, no place for him on the ice.”
Shane felt like a bucket of ice was poured over him, his chest constricting, feeling like the air had been punched out of his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He could feel the bile in the back of his throat.
“You good, buddy?” Hayden said, dropping onto the bench next to him, jostling his shoulder.
Shane flinched, snapping his head to Hayden. He swallowed, and nodded, his mouth pulled into a thin line.
“You look like you’re about to be sick. Shit, you don’t have the flu or something, right?”
“No,” Shane choked out. He cleared his throat, earning him an eyebrow raise. “I, uh, I’ll be back.”
He grabbed his phone from his bag and practically ran out of the room. He didn’t even have shoes on. He unlocked the phone and was calling Ilya before he was even out of the room.
“Shane?” Ilya’s voice alone already made him feel better. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t passed out yet, he thinks it’s been minutes since his breathing was normal.
“I-I cant –” Shane started. He was breathing heavy and yet couldn’t get the air to stay in his lungs at the same time. He rounded a corner and dropped to the floor, his back to a wall, chin on his knees.
“What’s wrong? I thought you were at practice?”
“I am. Th-the guys, they–”
“Shane, moya lyubov’, please breathe,” Ilya said, his voice dripping in concern. “You are having panic attack?”
Shane nodded which he knew was stupid since Ilya couldn’t see him. He knew Ilya would know though and Shane didn’t trust his voice. His cheeks felt wet and he realised that at some point he had started crying.
“Okay,” Ilya spoke and he sounded like he had put the phone on speaker, “One second… okay, Google said we need to do breathing exercise!”
Shane thinks he could hear him mutter a what the fuck is that? before he said louder, “Alright it says breathe in for four seconds and breathe out for four. Can you do that for me, lyubumiyy? We will do together, yes?”
Shane closed his eyes and tried to breathe alongside Ilya through the phone, but eventually, he was able to breathe well enough. He felt something touch his arm and he opened his eyes to find Hayden on the ground next to him. He didn’t say anything, just laid a hand on Shane’s arm and squeezed it.
Shane continued breathing and after another minute, Ilya asked, “You are good now, yes? Tell me why you were like this.”
Shane closed his eyes again and turned his head. He couldn’t look at Hayden when he answered, “a couple of the guys were talking about Scott.”
“Ah,” Ilya said, “not in a good way?”
“No. They uh... they called him a ‘fag’ and talked about targeting him and putting him out for the season. Said they hoped he would get kicked from the league.”
“Who was it? Give me names.”
“No, Ilya,” Shane said, sniffling. “I’m not giving you a hit list.”
“Why not? They have one, I have one. Is only fair.”
Shane snorted at Ilya’s simple tone, as if he was saying something that was common sense.
“No,” Shane repeated, but he quirked lips in a small smile. “No hit list. I don’t even know why I reacted so badly. It’s not like that stuff hasn’t been said before.”
“You reacted like this because it is scary,” Ilya said softly. “Because you are scared for yourself. And this stuff shouldn’t be said. It is not said in my locker room and it should not be said in any locker room.”
“I know,” Shane said and a small sob broke out. Because it was true. Hayden moved to wrap his arm around him. After a moment Shane whispered, “I don’t know if I can go back in there right now.”
“So then don’t. Take a moment or take the day off, you cannot go in there crying anyway.”
“It’s literally the first day and I’m the captain. I can’t just go home because I heard a slur.”
“You would be taking it because you are not okay right now. And was not just a slur.”
“Fuck, I know.”
Shane took a breath and wiped at his tear-stained cheeks. He wishes in that moment that he wasn’t a captain, that he wasn’t Shane Hollander. He wishes this wasn’t the team that he was giving himself to, that he wasn’t putting his blood, sweat, and tears into. But this was his life and this was his team. And he hadn’t been able to practice with them since the day before the crash with Marleau.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m not taking the day off but, I won’t go back in for a little while. I was here early anyway.”
“Okay,” Ilya said. “Promise you will go home if you need to?”
“Yeah, I promise. I should let you go.”
“Call me tonight. Ya tebya lyublyu.” I love you.
“Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu.” I love you too.
“Pronunciation still needs work but is okay, I will give you a pass right now.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“You love me.”
“Yeah,” Shane breathed. “I do.”
He said goodbye and hung up. He rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. How was he supposed to go back in the room?
Hayden cleared his throat and Shane started, forgetting he was there, despite the fact that his arm was still over his shoulders. Hayden smiled and said, “so how many Ilya’s do you know?”
“Just the one,” Shane said, hoping that was the end of the conversation.
“Why are you calling Rozanov then? And dude, ew, you call him Ilya? And did you speak Russian at the end there?”
“I didn’t speak it well, but yes,” Shane said. “Also, his name is Ilya. And I called him because…”
“Because?”
“I’m gay.”
“Oh,” Hayden said, slumping against the wall. Shane stiffened which caused Hayden to straighten back up, “shit, man, sorry. Fuck, that was a bad reaction. Thank you for telling me. I love you, nothing changes that, especially this. And this stays with me, I won’t even tell Jackie. I just thought you were gonna say he was like your new best friend or something, I was fucking relieved it was just you being gay.”
“Right.”
“What’s that got to do with Rozanov? Wait, did you tell him before you told me? What the hell, man?”
“Hayd,” Shane said. “He knows because he’s my boyfriend.”
Hayden blue-screened. He blinked slowly and Shane could see his brain trying to process this information before he slowly said, “I think maybe I misheard you. Come again?”
“He’s Lily.”
“No, that’s–no. You’ve been talking to her for years.”
“Yup.”
“Shane, you hate him. He’s Rozanov! He’s an asshole!”
“Okay, first, I don’t hate him, everyone just thinks I do. I love him. A lot. And second, he’s not actually an asshole.”
“You literally just called him one like two minutes ago!”
“Well, I mean,” Shane started and then sighed dejectedly. “Okay, yeah, he is an asshole. But he’s not mean. He’s not cruel or bigoted or anything like that. And he is also kind and sweet and just helped me through a panic attack. He’s good and I love him.”
“Does he love you?”
“Yeah. He does.”
“Okay, man,” Hayden nodded. “Fine, but if you guys break up, let me know. Jackie has tons of gay friends. Oh man, I can’t believe how many women I’ve tried to set you up with. You should have told me sooner. Wait, what about Rose? Or was that like one of those PR things?”
“No,” Shane chuckled. “Rose was real, I was just trying to see if I could be straight, I guess?”
“Damn, dude. You really are gay then if it didn’t work with her.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda the point.”
“Right, that makes sense.”
They sat in silence for a moment before Shane let out a breath and started getting up. Meltdown over, big moment done, time to get back to reality. Shane knew what the room would be like now, he just had to keep his head down. Try and ignore comments. Block it all out or just push through it. He can breakdown again later at home if he needed.
“We should get back to the locker room. Practice should be starting soon.”
“You gonna be good?” Hayden asked.
Shane hesitated but nodded. “I have to be.”
“Fuck man,” Hayden said, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have to be, that shit they said isn’t okay. You can’t force yourself to be alright.”
“I do,” Shane snapped. “I’m the captain, this is my team.”
“Shane. I love this team – you know I do. It’s our team. But about 80% of them are homophobic assholes.”
“So what? There are homophobes on every team. It’s hockey.”
“Fuck, Shane. I don’t know if I like the idea of you going back in there. Some of the shit they were saying even after you left was fucking disgusting.”
“Just because I’m gay, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be in the room. I just wasn’t expecting to hear it. And I know to expect it now. I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t deserve that. I hate to say it, because this is our team, but they do not deserve you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Shane was starting to get worked up now. He’s confused and a little angry. He’s never been the best at social queues but it was hard to not pick up what Hayden is implying.
“Maybe you should ask for a trade? Or like your contract ends this season, right? Don’t resign. Go to a better team, a nicer one.”
“Leave Montreal? What the fuck?”
Okay, Shane was right. Hayden was definitely saying that. Which is just leaving him fucking bewildered because why the hell would Shane leave Montreal? This is his fucking team. He was drafted here, he made this team. He’s the captain who’s led them to two cups! What. The. Fuck.
“I can’t believe I’m saying it either,” Hayden said, holding his hands up. He placed them on Shane’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. He looked like a kicked puppy and Shane could tell how hard this was for him to say. “But Shane, you are my best friend. You are more important than this team, than anyone else in that fucking room.”
“This is my team,” Shane whispered, and fuck, he was crying again.
“Yeah,” Hayden sniffled, his eyes rimmed red. “But there are teams out there that aren’t this one. That don’t have Comeau or Drapeau or Wilson or any of those other fucking guys. There are teams that you would be safer on. And I think you should look into them.”
“It’s my team,” Shane repeated, choking out a sob. Hayden wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his back while Shane cried into his shoulder.
“Just think about it. And you should take today, go home. Please, Shane. I’ll tell Theriault you’re sick, I think some of the guys think you are anyway.”
“What? Why?”
“You looked like you were gonna hurl, and after you ran out a couple of the guys said–”
He cut himself off, and shook his head. Shane pulled back and looked at him.
“Said what?”
“Shit man, I don’t wanna say it,” Hayden muttered, shaking his head more vigorously. At Shane’s raised eyebrows, he groaned and continued, “fuck, man they said you must have Asian bird flu or something.”
“Oh wow, how original of them,” Shane snarked. He’d heard those comments almost as long as he’s been on the ice. He was glad to know the men on his team were as creative as grade schoolers.
“Yeah, fucking charming, right?”
Shane snorted, “Yeah, hard to believe half of them are divorced.”
Hayden laughed and patted his back. “Come on, Hollzy, let’s go get your shit so you can get outta here.”
Shane nodded and they slowly walked back to the locker room. Before they opened the door to it, he turned to Hayden and in a quiet voice said, “you can tell Jackie, by the way.”
Hayden made a confused noise and tilted his head.
“Earlier,” Shane clarified, “you said you wouldn’t even tell Jackie about, y’know, me. You can tell her.”
“Oh, thank fuck, I did not wanna keep that from her.”
Hayden let out a relieved sigh and pushed the door open. The room was – thankfully – empty, everyone else most likely out on the ice. Shane made quick work of getting redressed in his clothes, neatly placing his equipment back in his stall. He nodded at Hayden when he grabbed his bag and left.