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october, montreal
It doesn’t take long after the season starts to realize that the differences this year won’t just be with his team.
One dangerous hit turns into two, then three, four, five, and then he stops counting.
He knows from the group chat that he’s not the only one dealing with it.
That Ilya, Scott and Troy are all being targeted to some degree by the homophobes in the league.
The lack of calls from the refs and the silence from the Player Safety Association is deafening.
He really hopes that things will settle down, that people will get used to openly gay players in hockey and the rage and bigotry will die down.
But as he lies on the ice, the cold seeping through his gear and pain radiating through his body, its a little hard to believe that.
broadcast booth
“You know Jason,” Colton says, “I really think there needs to be more said about the fact that this is the third time the Montreal trainers have been called onto the ice for Shane Hollander this season even though we’re only a month in.”
“I agree.” Jason says. “Hollander has always taken a lot of hits, hard not to when most teams’ plan for beating the Voyagers includes ‘keep Shane Hollander from scoring’ but this season the hits have been brutal.”
“We’ve seen similar escalations against Troy Barrett and Ilya Rozanov with the Ottawa Centaurs and Scott Hunter of the New York Admirals.” Colton says. “There are a lot of players in this league reacting badly to the increase in players coming out over the last year.”
“I know the league wants to ignore this situation and hope that it goes away but it doesn’t look like it will.” Jason says. “And someone is going to get hurt if these hits continue.”
“Especially with the league’s silence emboldening them.” Colton agrees. “But for now, Hollander is on his feet, being assisted to the locker room for evaluation. Hope he’ll be okay. Based on the rest of the team’s lackluster performance on the game impact scorecards this season, Montreal will not be making the playoffs if Hollander is injured.”
“Hayden Pike and JJ Boiziau have put up a fight.” Jason says. “They might be able to get us to the first round at least.”
“Not with the other players skating around with their heads up their asses.” Colton says. “Well, looks like they’re getting ready for the face off.”
med bay
He could have sworn that Devon used to be more gentle about things like this.
The pain has faded a lot from the all encompassing agony that it had been on the ice but his shoulder still aches and the way the man is manipulating it really isn’t helping.
His phone has gone off a couple times and he can’t help but look over at it.
“Need you to focus, Hollander.”
The man never used to call him by his last name either.
“It’s my parents.” he says, returning his attention to his shoulder.
It’s probably Ilya too but he’s already learned its better if he doesn’t remind them that he has a fiance.
Or that said fiance is a division rival.
“They’ll know you’re okay when you get back on the ice.” Devon says darkly.
“And if I don’t?” Shane asks.
He thinks he probably will but usually the trainers don’t talk like it’s a foregone conclusion when they’ve just started the evaluation.
Especially with a driven player like Shane.
“Then you’ll be able to call them then.”
Without wasting my time – goes unsaid.
The rest of the evaluation takes place mostly in silence with only terse questions and answers.
He sits in the locker room during the second intermission with ice pressed up against his shoulder, listening while the coach talks over their game plan and what they need to do to hold onto the lead he’d managed to give them before going down.
When they get the alert to head back to the ice, he pulls his jersey over his head, leaving the ice pack in his locker and leads the way down the tunnel.
december, montreal, broadcast booth
“Ooh.” Colton says, glancing over at Jason. “That was an ugly hit on Montreal’s Shane Hollander. He looks like he’s trying to sit up but his brain has got to be a little scrambled after that.”
“A nasty potential injury, going into the winter break.” Jason agrees.
“It’s hard to believe no penalty was called on the play.” Colton adds. “With the head being the obvious point of contact.”
“Hayden Pike is off the bench.” Jason says. “Exchanging blows with Detroit’s Ivan Kern but despite other Detroit players piling on in Kern’s defense, it doesn’t seem that anyone else from the Voyager's bench wants to get involved.”
“That’s been a common thread throughout this season as the hits have stacked up.” Colton says, an edge to his voice. “If the silence from the league on the matter is sending a message, the silence from the Voyagers has been worse.”
“We’ve seen the hits on other out players taper off as we get into the season.” Jason agrees. “Because the Ottawa Centaurs and the New York Admirals have made it clear that if the league won’t get involved, they will.”
“Sucks that Shane Hollander isn’t getting that kind of support from the teammates that he’s led to three Stanley Cups.” Colton says.
“Pike and Boiziau have tried but with no backup from the others, they aren’t sending as strong of a message as I’m sure they would like.” Jason says. “And it’s hard to watch.”
“Hollander is up.” Colton chimes in. “Unsteady on his feet and being supported by Pike but he’s making his way off the ice. This late in the third, he’s unlikely to clear concussion protocol in time to return to the game.”
“At least he’ll have the winter break to rest up and hopefully get feeling better.” Jason chimes. “Though if that’s any kind of concussion he’ll have to miss at least a few games after the break.”
“Kid deserves a break from carrying this whole damn team on his back.” Colton says.
montreal general – hours later
They’d planned to spend Christmas in Ottawa with Shane’s parents but when his fiancé had taken that hit on the ice, Ilya had decided those plans needed to change.
With Shane unable to make the two hour drive to Ottawa and honestly too miserable to be comfortable as a passenger if Ilya wanted to bring him back, he’d decided they should spend the holidays at Shane’s Montreal apartment.
He’d been on the road within five minutes of Shane hitting the ice, a hastily packed bag in the backseat and Shane’s parents agreeing to bring the presents, food and other necessities when they drove down in the morning.
He’d arrived just as the hospital was finishing with their scans to the news that Shane would probably be released soon as long as there was someone who could stay with him.
Stands in the hallway outside his room, watching Shane doze through the closed door while they wait for the doctors to review the imaging.
Hayden is standing next to him, left eye already blossoming into a nasty black eye.
“I’m so sick of this shit.” the man mutters, shaking his head.
“That was a nasty fight.” Ilya agrees.
He hadn’t caught much of it but he’d seen enough as he was throwing things into a bag to know that Hayden had ended up in a 4 on 1 battle after Shane had been hit.
With JJ sitting the game out with a minor strain, he’d been left trying to defend Shane alone.
“I don’t-” Hayden trails off. “I don’t love getting my ass handed to me in these fights but for Shane I’d do it. I just… wish I actually made any kind of impact. Made these assholes think twice about going after him.”
Ilya wishes so too.
He’s so tired of watching Shane go down like this.
Of being terrified that his fiance is badly injured.
It’s a miracle that tonight was a home game, that he wasn’t thousands of miles away in Florida or something where Ilya wouldn’t have been able to get to him quickly.
A miracle that Shane hasn’t been seriously injured by this point.
Or killed.
Because he’s seen the horrifying videos on YouTube of Bill Masterton - who’d taken a hit and landed at the wrong angle.
Who’d never gotten back up.
It’s only happened once in the history of the league but the more hits Shane racks up, especially these ugly, dirty hits, the more the odds turn against him.
He’d taken plenty of hits of his own in October. So had Troy.
But they’d already started to slow by the time they reached November.
Because there hadn’t been a member of his team who had so much as hesitated to throw hands when somebody hurt him.
It kills him that Shane’s team won’t do the same.
That Hayden and JJ are desperately trying to fight this battle on their own as some kind of a …. two-man army.
And as much as he appreciates their willingness to try, it just isn’t good enough.
three days later, detroit
By some coincidence, the Centaur’s first game after the break is against Detroit.
Part of him wants to skip it.
To stay home with Shane.
He’ll be out for another week before being allowed to return to practice so when Ilya had driven back to Ottawa to meet his team at the airport, he’d come with him.
Had slept in the passenger seat for most of the drive and woken up just in time to convince Ilya to drop him off at his parents’ and go meet the team instead of texting coach Wiebe and staying home.
Then Ivan Kern opens his big mouth during warmups and suddenly, Ilya is glad that he’d come.
Hayden may not have been able to make much of an impact 4 on 1 but Ilya’s team should jump in and have his back if he decides to kick the bastard’s ass.
He doesn’t get the chance.
Boodram lasts all of two seconds after the puck drops before his gloves are off and he’s lunging forward.
Kern’s team are slow to respond, not prepared for a fight this early on and Ilya himself watches in shock from the bench while the bastard gets his ass handed to him.
Both men go off to the penalty box and the game continues on.
Ilya keeps trying to talk to Boodram, to ask why he’d done it, but he doesn’t get a chance.
With thirty seconds left in the first period, gloves hit the ice again.
This time, its Dykstra who beats Kern’s ass.
They finish the period and file back to the locker room.
“I… I don’t understand.” Ilya says, standing in front of his cubicle.
“If that bastard hit my wife,” Hayes says. “You’d drop kick his ass, right?”
Ilya nods.
Lisa Hayes is a lovely woman and for his teammate... of course he would take revenge.
“Same deal here.” Boodram says. “Doesn’t matter if Hollander is a rival. You love him. And we love you. If his team won’t take care of business, we will.”
Ilya nods, eyes uncharacteristically watering.
“Thank you.” he chokes out.
That night, lying on his hotel room bed, he hears a similar emotion in Shane’s voice.
“They… those fights… did they attack Kern for me?” his fiance stammers out.
“Yes.” Ilya tells him. “He hurt you so they hurt him.”
“Why?” Shane chokes out. “I’m the enemy.”
“You are my family.” Ilya tells him.
Shane doesn’t respond, sniffles.
“Shane?”
“I’m sorry.” Shane whispers.
“It’s okay.” Ilya says, having an idea where his head’s at.
“They’ve been your teammates for a year.” Shane whispers. “And they’re exacting vengeance for a division rival because you love me. Meanwhile my… my teammates of ten years have no problem standing by and watching me get pummeled. I led them to the cup last year.”
“I’m sorry.” Ilya says. “I wish I could make them better.”
Shane sighs.
“Me too.”
A few weeks later, Caleb Wallace – one of Anaheim’s forwards - throws hands with Jacob Trent – a defenseman on the Tampa Bay team – in the game after he brutally crosschecks Shane into the boards from behind.
It happens again a few days later, a player from another team standing up for Shane where his own teammates will not.
And for a second, Ilya thinks that it’s going to be okay.
That the glacially progressing cultural shift will still be enough to protect the man he loves from serious injury.
And then Montreal plays Toronto the first week of February.
Shane plays Dallas Kent.
Dallas Kent who the entire league, probably the entire world at this point, knows is the world’s biggest asshole.
Ilya is in Tampa, watching the game from a hotel in preparation of a game the following night.
Even on television he can tell that Kent had hit that puck directly at Shane on purpose.
Winces in sympathy as Shane hits the ice.
They wear padding of course but a direct hit to the chest still hurts, especially given that while Dallas Kent is scum and not even that good at hockey, he can still fire off one hell of a heater.
Then Shane doesn’t get up.
Ilya sits frozen, perched on the end of his bed with his eyes fixed on the screen as Hayden kneels next to his best friend.
With the limits of the cameras, he can’t even tell if Shane is responding.
Hayden rips open his friend’s jersey and has started on his pads by the time the trainers reach them and then Ilya’s heart stops as someone starts chest compressions.
No.
Images are flashing through his mind.
Shane on the ice – unmoving – after that hit from Marlow.
His mother, sprawled across the bathroom floor in his childhood home.
Only a small fragment of him is still seeing the present moment, sees Hayden pushed away from his friend as the medics reach them with the AED.
He forces himself – somewhat successfully – to focus as electricity courses through the love of his life.
As his back arches in a way that it usually only does when Shane is pressed to the bed under him, eyes rolling back in pleasure.
Another shock and then they’re bundling Shane onto the stretcher and rushing him off the ice.
Is his heart beating again?
Or have they simply decided to continue this desperate fight for his life away from the anxious eyes of 19,000 fans – with countless more watching on television.
With Ilya watching on television.
Then Shane is gone from the ice and the coverage switches to a pair of shell-shocked talking heads discussing the now suspended game and whether or not the hit was an accident.
Ilya turns it off.
He doesn’t care about the game or even fucking Dallas Kent right now.
Just fucking tell him – is Shane okay?
His phone buzzes next to him and he looks down, realizing with a start that his screen is filled with notifications.
Answers the call from his future mother-in-law.
“They got his heart restarted.” she says before he can even demand an answer. “David and I are with him now, will ride in the ambulance with him. He’s still unconscious but his heart is beating.”
He lets out a breath that probably would be classified more as a sob.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asks softly and he can only sob again as the motherly love that he’d thought was lost to him washes over him.
“I am so far away.” he manages after a moment. “And the television… I could see too much but also too little and I…”
“We’ll get you to Toronto.” she promises. “I can call your coach if you would like, find you a flight.”
He shakes his head, sniffling.
“Stay with Shane.” he begs. “Please… just take care of Shane. I will call him.”
He’s pretty sure there are texts from Wiebe in the wall of notifications that he should probably be addressing anyway.
“Okay.” she says softly. “The ambulance is leaving now. I will text or call with every update. You just take care of yourself, sweetheart. Get here soon but get here safely.”
“I will.” he promises, ending the call and taking a deep breath before checking his notifications.
Svetlana has texted, concerned and ready to fly to Florida if it will help him.
He thanks her, tells her what Yuna had been able to offer about Shane’s condition and assures her that he’ll be okay.
The team’s group chat has exploded, hundreds of messages starting the moment Shane went down.
‘Heart restarted, condition still critical. Will probably fly out tonight.’
His text immediately receives another flood of well wishes and the team assuring him that he needs to get his ass to Toronto, that they’ll beat Tampa’s ass for him.
Bood promises to kick Jacob Trent’s ass again just as a matter of principle.
The message from Wiebe gets a call back.
The fact that he won’t be playing against Florida is a foregone conclusion.
A flight has already been booked for him and a car ordered to take him to the airport.
Ilya just needs to pack his things and meet them in roughly an hour.
They’ll play his return to the ice by ear.
He has to fight back tears as he thanks the man, thanks him for understanding, for supporting Ilya’s relationship, for taking care of everything because he’s not sure he’s capable of it right now.
He distills it all to a thank you.
Hangs up and starts to shove things into his bag.
When he steps into a hospital room so many hours (actually less than five but still five too many) later, Shane is already awake.
Staring back at him with eyes that speak to unbelievable exhaustion but awake.
Alive.
He’s across the room before he registers moving his feet, Shane’s right hand grasped in both of his.
“I’m okay.” Shane rasps, his weak voice doing nothing to convince Ilya of the truth of that statement.
“I doubt that.” Ilya says, tears welling up in his eyes all over again. “But you are alive and I will take that for now.”
Yuna had called him as soon as he’d texted that his flight had landed.
Had tried her best to explain that the healing bruising from the hit he’d taken from Trent just over a week ago combined with a dirty hit (also from Kent) earlier in the game had left him vulnerable.
Had allowed a hard hit from a fast moving puck at just the wrong spot to disrupt his heart rhythm.
Nothing is broken, just some bruising.
He’ll be on pacing wires for a few days until his heart rhythm fully stabilizes and then go home after they’re removed.
Strictly enforced rest for another few weeks after that before being allowed to gradually resume his normal activity level.
Could even be back on the ice by the end of March.
Ilya does not want him back on the ice.
Not with too many players in this league out for his blood.
Not with his team refusing to have his back.
Not with the possibility of seeing him splayed across the ice like a broken puppet again.
But he knows how much Shane loves hockey, how devastated he would be if he couldn’t return to the game that means so much to him.
“I’m sorry I scared you.” Shane whispers, drawing him back to the moment. “Lie with me?”
Ilya hesitates.
He wants nothing more but he doesn’t want to hurt Shane either.
“Be fine as long as you don’t lie on top of me.” Shane says, instantly interpreting his hesitation.
He scoots to the side of the bed and Ilya toes out of his shoes.
He settles into the open space next to his fiance, feeling the tension leak out of him as Shane shifts to rest his head against the side of Ilya’s neck.
“Love you.” Shane whispers.
He’s asleep by the time Ilya registers the words but he doesn’t let that stop him.
“I love you too.”
The internet has exploded before Shane even gets the chance to leave the hospital.
The idea of targeted violence toward out players (and that the league needs to do better) has been addressed on a small scale by a number of sports publications.
Ilya particularly appreciates the way the Voyager’s own broadcast team have never strayed away from highlighting it and their annoyance with their own team’s pathetic response.
But it hasn’t really broken the hockey world containment.
Apparently, the league’s star player literally dying on the ice (even if he came back, thank God he came back) as a result of a targeted hit has gotten them attention.
Hockey fans have posted countless slow-motion clips on social media, erasing any question that Kent’s shot had been aimed anywhere other than directly at Shane and calling for player safety to do SOMETHING.
And yeah, the homophobic dude bros are littering the comments, calling them ‘snowflakes’ and ‘too woke’ and insisting that he was just making a shot on goal.
But the fact that Shane wasn’t even close to being between Kent and the goal at the time kind of destroys that argument.
Compilations of the hits that Shane has been taking all season had followed, again in slow motion with circles and arrows drawn over them like a coach breaking down tape after a game to show prohibited contact and vicious intent.
Highlighting the horrifying percentage of the time that Shane hadn’t even been in the possession of the puck at the time.
The equally horrifying percentage of the time that no penalty had been called on the play.
Shane has gone viral again and while Ilya wishes his fiance could only ever receive attention for his unreal puck handling skills and physics defying shots on goal, if this is what it takes to keep him safe, he’ll take it.
Crowell has remained silent throughout the storm though the Department of Player Safety had released a mechanical comment that tape is being reviewed and a hearing scheduled for Kent.
Then Liam Thornberg, a massively famous A-list actor who’s been out for almost ten years, brings up the situation on a daytime talk show.
“I remember what it was like when I came out.” Thornberg says. “Nobody seemed to know quite how to look at me. People that I had known for years, that I’d been friendly with for years who suddenly acted like I was a stranger to them.”
He shakes his head.
“I had support as well, I had fame and status to fall back on, I had good friends who had known for years who had my back. But there was anger as well. Angry comments on the street, threats of violence, people who refused to work with me and even a few times where people decided on physical violence as a solution.”
Then his face twists in disgust.
“I was very, very fortunate to exist in a world where that was responded to. Immediately. People were removed from set, criminal charges were filed. There was perhaps more tolerance for cruel words than I would have liked but physical violence was never tolerated. The small number of players who have been historically brave enough to come out in the MLH haven’t been granted that protection. I’ve been a hockey fan my entire life. I know its a rough and tumble, impact sport. I’ve also watched the compilation videos that have been circling twitter about the hits that Shane Hollander has taken this season and let me tell you, this is so far beyond normal, expected hockey violence that I don’t even have words for it.”
He swallows hard.
“Dozens of dangerous hits, penalties called staying in the single digits and zero instances of supplemental discipline. Even after Dallas Kent literally almost killed him earlier in the week it took forty eight hours of public insistence for a hearing to be called. It isn’t fair to Shane and it isn’t fair to thousands of hockey fans across North America who are hearing the message that the MLH considers brutal violence acceptable if the victim is a member of the LGBTQ community loud and clear.”
He purses his lips.
“I am reminded in little ways every single day that society has come a long way over the years, a long way from the frightening environment that I came out in. But this week is a startling reminder that we’ve still got a long way to go. So my message today is for MLH Commissioner Roger Crowell."
"Do better.”
The screen shifts, going into commercial while they prepare to switch over to the next guest but Ilya isn’t paying attention anymore.
Turns his attention to Shane who is sitting up in his hospital bed, staring at the tv with an unreadable expression.
Shane is a movie buff, something that most people don’t realize about him but that honestly makes a lot of sense to Ilya.
He’s spent huge amounts of his life on the road since before he even hit double digits.
Killed time in hotel rooms and later on team buses and airplanes by watching countless movies.
It’s part of how he’d ended up dating Rose Landry.
He’d gone to that party hoping to meet an actress who’s work he adored and between his respect for her and the fact that she was a hockey fan who’d followed his career as well, they’d hit it off instantly.
He’d hoped that maybe that would be enough to make a heterosexual relationship work and while it hadn’t, the two are still very close friends.
Best friends as Rose reminds him regularly.
Liam Thornberg is another actor that Shane is a big fan of.
To hear the man publicly calling out the MLH for how badly they’ve handled the target on his back all season is overwhelming.
Especially on top of the fact that he’s exhausted physically and emotionally from his injury and what’s been an impossibly emotionally challenging season.
“I love you.” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his fiance’s head.
Shane just looks up at him, eyes brimming with unshed tears but he doesn’t have to say anything.
Love is radiating from every cell in his body.
march, montreal
He’s never been terrified to skate out onto the ice before.
But after what had happened, especially since they’re playing Toronto again tonight – though thanks to the public pressure Dallas Kent will never play in the league again – he’s definitely feeling some anxiety.
The fans are loud when he steps out for warmups.
There are definitely homophobic fans in Montreal who have decided that he’s no longer worth anything as a player since he came out.
Since he was revealed to be dating (and then engaged to) his career long rival.
But Montreal is a hockey town.
A lot of the fans don’t give a damn what he does in his personal life as long as he keeps putting points on the board and winning games.
The only disappointment for those fans is that his injury and the long weeks that he’d been out recovering have meant that Montreal is no longer in playoff contention.
But that anger isn’t directed at him.
It’s directed at Dallas Kent for injuring him.
Directed at the rest of the team because the fact that their star center being out for six weeks had been enough to drop them from second in the Eastern Conference to a place where they don’t even have the ability to fight their way back into a wildcard slot has made a lot of people take a long, hard look at just how much he’s been carrying the team on his back all these years.
And that makes his heart hurt for Hayden and JJ because both of them are good players who’ve been fighting hard while he was out to keep the team in it but neither of them are 'dragging an entire dead weight team to the playoff by sheer force of will' good players.
He just hopes that the stats they’ve managed to put up this season will be enough to get them options with good teams when they request trades this summer.
Because they’ve both told him that they’re going to.
They’re just waiting for him to go on free agency when his contract expires in July.
Waiting for him to be safely signed with another team before they also jump ship.
And he already knows which team that is though he doesn’t dare even think the name until July first lest he somehow open them up to accusations of tampering.
He’s excited but it also sucks.
He’d been thrilled to be drafted by Montreal.
Drafted by his mom’s favorite team that he’d grown up rooting for even though they lived in another hockey town.
He’s loved playing in the Bell Centre.
Loved leading this team to three Cups.
Until recently, he’d truly believed that he would play out his career here, break records for length of time playing with the same team and see his jersey lifted to the rafters.
The team has made it clear that won’t be happening.
The management has made it clear that won’t be happening (though their tone had started to change a little once the Voyagers had started free falling through the standings).
But he knows that he’s going to hate leaving these fans.
As time ticks down toward puck drop, he skates up the red line to face up against Toronto’s new first line Center and hears a pounding on the glass to his right.
Looks up to see Ilya and the rest of the Centaurs along with a smattering of other players who have stood up for him this season, including Caleb Wallace, sitting in the first couple of rows.
They are holding up a banner that reads ‘If you duck him, we duck you’ with actual pictures of ducks and wearing matching t-shirts that say ‘I punched Dallas Kent in the face and all I got was this stupid t-shirt’.
They put the banner down as soon as he’s seen it, not wanting to block the view of people behind them as the game gets started but he turns back to his opponent with a grin.
The layout of the glass surrounding the ice means that it would be pretty difficult for any of them to get on the ice to ‘duck’ anyone but he knows Ilya.
Knows that if something happens, the glass won’t be enough to stop him.
The look on the man opposite him’s face tells him that he knows it too.
It’s no magical fix.
Crowell and the league had still never made a statement condemning the violence against him or any of the other out players in the league.
Kent’s ban had been announced as the result of a pattern of reckless violence toward other players without a single mention of homophobia.
But none of the referees in the league seem to be blatantly ignoring penalties against them anymore and the voices speaking out in support of LGBTQ players in hockey are getting louder all the time.
He’ll get to play likely his first game of hockey in a long time without facing any dirty hits tonight and when the final buzzer sounds, he’ll get to go back to his apartment with his fiance.
And with any luck, next season he’ll have that every night.
Shhh. Don’t jinx it.