Work Text:
Ilya had been on the team bench when it happened.
It was halfway through the gruelling second period of the Montreal vs Ottawa game. Ottawa was up two points and Montreal was predictably responding with violence. Not wanting to lose on home ice, the Metros were throwing everything legal and not so legal at the Centaurs. Ilya lost count of how many times his teammates and himself had been thrown into the boards. Shane had been checked particularly hard in the first period, it made Ilya feel sick to watch. Hockey was a rough sport everyone knew that, however this game was bordering on violent. And Ilya was just about fucking fed up.
Ilya has been watching Shane during his shift, noting the very subtle way he was skating and favouring his left hip. It would be almost impossible for most people to notice, Ilya however was incredibly tuned to his husband and he noticed even the most microscopic things with Shane.
Shane was skating towards the blue line. Ilya could see his eyes scanning between Luca who currently had the puck and the Metros newest defenceman in front of him. Shane takes off and within mere seconds, he watches in horror as Comeau hooks his stick under Shane’s skate blade and sends him falling on the ice, the right side of Shane’s body takes the brunt of the impact and he careens into the boards. His body bounces back off the boards from the sheer force of the impact.
An ear piercing scream that Ilya could only describe as animalistic fills the otherwise silent arena. He is over the boards before he realises and is skating over to Shane. Seeing his husband writhing around on the ice, clutching at his arm and screaming in pain has his stomach feeling sick. Luca and Hayden are already down by Shane’s side. Wyatt makes himself a wall between Shane and the Metros,which Ilya was grateful for. He wanted to go and beat the shit out of Comeau, watch his fist repeatedly pound into his fucking face. But Shane needed him and that was his priority.
“AH FUCK” Shane’s face is scrunched up in pain as he braces his right arm.
“The medics are coming Shane. Terrys coming okay, he’ll help you” Luca’s voice shakes as he watches in distress. He makes eye contact with Ilya, clearly looking for help.
“Shane Moya Lyubov, I’m here” Ilya kneels down next to Shane. Hands hovering, unsure where to touch his husband.
“Fuck Ilya it hurts”
“I’m so sorry Shane” Ilya says as Terry kneels down next to Shane’s right side. “Terry is here now da. He will help you” Ilya looks at Terry.
“Hey Shane, where are you hurt buddy”
Terry starts looking over Shane’s body.
“My, ah fuck. My collarbone” tears run down Shane’s face as he holds onto his arm.
“Ok, you fractured this one before right”
“Yeah” Shane hisses out “fucking hell”
“Ok. Did you hit your head, lose consciousness at all”
Shane skates his head
“Any dizziness, nausea”
Again Shane shakes his head.
“Ok” Terry searches through his medical kit and grabs a pair scissors. “Shane I’m going to cut your jersey off so I can evaluate your arm. I need you to stay very still okay” Terry shoots Ilya a look, that he understands immediately. Ilya moves down next to Shane, putting Shane’s good hand into his to hold.
“ok” Shane starts to lose colour in his face. “Fuck this hurts ilya” a tear rolls down Shane’s face and onto the ice. It breaks Ilya’s heart to see him in so much pain.
“I’m so sorry malysh. Terrys going to help you okay”
“Don’t leave” Shane grips Ilya’s hand as tight as he can, which isn’t very hard at the moment.
“I’m not going anywhere Shane. I’m staying right here oke” Ilya brings his mouths to Shane’s hand and kisses his knuckles.
Terry works quickly to cut off Shane’s jersey. Then he very carefully removes the shoulder pad, making sure not to jostle his collarbone. Then he cuts Shane’s base layer off to expose his shoulder. Straight away Terry can see that there is significant swelling around the his collarbone, Shane’s skin is tenting from where the bone is sticking out. “Ok shane it looks like you’ve fractured your collarbone. I’m going to give you this whistle to suck on to hopefully help with the pain, while I work to stabilise your arm. I’m not going to lie. It’s going to hurt like a bitch, but I’ll be as gentle as I can”
Shane takes the whistle and starts sucking, desperate for any form of relief. “I didn’t even have the fucking puck” he says in a pained voice, tears falling down his face.
Ilya looks over to coach and then around to all their teammates who have huddled around Shane. They all share the same look of anger and concern on their faces. Before looking back at Shane. “It’s not fair Shane. We will deal with him ok”.
“Ok Shane. I’m going to gently reposition your arm on your chest. It’s going to hurt but I need you to try and focus on your breathing” Terry carefully moves Shane’s arm to rest across his chest.
“Ahhh, fuck” Shane screams and writhes around. “fu-“ his words cut off mid sentence as he passes out. Head lolling to the side as his body goes limp.
“SHANE!SHANE!. Блядь, проснись, пожалуйста, малыш (fuck, wake up please baby)” Ilya mind switches between English and Russian. He completely forgets about the game or the spectators watching the commotion on the ice. He is taken back to that moment years ago when Shane was laid out on the ice in the Boston game. To a time when he couldn’t comfort Shane like he so desperately wanted too. But this wasn’t that time. Shane was his husband, and he could be there with him no matter how scared he was.
In his spiral he hadn’t noticed Terry move around to beside Shane. Checking his vitals in a steady confident manner.
Seconds feel like hours as Ilya watches him work over his husband.
“Got a pulse, he’s breathing” he places his hand on Shane’s good shoulder, gently squeezing. “Shane can you hear. Come on Shane you need to wake up”
“Why isn’t he waking up. SHANE!” Ilya can feel his chest start to physically hurt from the terror he is feeling. Kneeling over his husband, eyes filling with tears. He was aware enough to know that the whole team, hell the whole stadium was watching him. He couldn’t give a fuck. He need Shane to wake up NOW.
A small groans comes from Shane as he slowly opens his eyes. A collective sigh of relief comes from everyone around him.
“Fuck Shane you scared me” Ilya takes his hand again.
“Sorry” Shane gentle squeezes, eyes still adjusting to the bright lights of the arena.
“Do you know where you are Shane”
“Montreal”
“Do you know what happened”
“Yeah Comeau’s a dick and my arm is killing me” that earns a few chuckles from his teammates.
“Any dizziness or nausea”
“No dizziness, feeling a little nauseous though”
“Ok. I’m guessing you passed out from the pain,but they will check you out at the hospital.The nausea could also be from the pain. Keep sucking on the whistle while, I get you stabilised. Then we’ll get you out of here”
Once Terry stabilises Shane’s collarbone, he gets Ilya to help load Shane onto the stretcher. Teammates smack their stick on the ice, and fans cheer in support as Shane is taken off the ice.
“Coa-“ Ilya starts
“Go. Go make sure he’s okay. Update us when you can” Weibe smacks Ilya on the back of the shoulder before returning to the team.
Ilya runs to the locker room and does the quickest outfit change ever. He grabs a change of clothes for Shane and their phones and wallets and heads to the med bay.
In the ambulance Shane is propped up into a sitting position. The pain is radiating all through his upper body. Making the nausea that wasn’t as bad before, feel a whole lot worse now.
“I’m going to be sick” he clutches at his stomach and there isn’t much warning. Luckily the paramedic moved quickly, placing a vomit bag in front of Shane. Shane proceeds to vomit and gag into the small plastic bag. “Ah fuck this hurts so bad”. The straining caused from the vomiting makes his collarbone hurt more which causes him to vomit more. It’s was a viscous cycle. After a few minutes the vomiting seems to have subsided and the paramedic administers some stronger pain relief. “This is so embarrassing” he groans as he wipes vomit off his mouth.
“It’s not embarrassing Moya Lyubov, it is a normal reaction to pain”
“I hate this so much Ilya”
“I know sweetheart. You don’t deserve this. I wish I could take the pain away from” Ilya holds onto Shane’s hand, rubbing his thumb along his wedding band.
“I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew they fucking hated me. If Comeau had his way I wouldn’t be in this league anymore” Shane scoffs, trying to hold back his tears.
“Hey shane, look at me” ilya gently grabs Shane’s chin and looks him in the eye.
“I don’t give a fuck what he thinks, what Comeau did tonight was disgusting. That was a targeted attack, that was not hockey. And he won’t get away with it, I’ll make sure of it”
At Montreal general hospital Shane is taken in straight away for an xray to see what is going on. He is given a bed in the emergency room to lay on whilst he waits for the results. Before he can wait he needs to get change, he’s still wearing his cut up base layers and they are starting to overwhelm him.
As if reading his mind Ilya moves to grab the bag with the clothes in it. “Come Moya Lyubov, I’ll help you get changed. I already spoke to the nurse, she said you could get change as long as you don’t aggravate your arm” he helps Shane gently off the bed and they make their way down to the bathroom. Ilya starts by helping Shane gently remove his compression tights. And then slowly and gently he removes what’s left of Shane’s compression shirt. Ilya helps Shane change into fresh boxers. Normally Shane would insist on showering first, however that wasn’t an option at the moment. So Ilya focused on making him as comfortable as possible. Then he helped Shane step into his favourite pair of sweatpants. The last obstacle was the shirt. He ended up grabbing one of his own shirts, it would be big on Shane but hopefully that meant it would be easier to get on without hurting him more. He gently pulled the shirt over Shane injured collarbone first, taking extra care and attention. He then pulled it over Shane’s head and got Shane’s other arm into the sleeve.
“Thank you” Shane said softy, as Ilya helped him get comfortable in the bed.
“What for”
“For helping me with all of this”
“Shane, of course I would help you. You’re my husband, I love you so much”
“I love you so much” Shane leans forward and kisses Ilya, not nearly as long as he wants to, but he’ll have to wait for more. “Can we cuddle” Shane asks with the most beautiful eyes, that Ilya could never say no too.
“Oke” Ilya climbs up on the bed, ignoring the creaking that the bed makes in protest. Shane nuzzles up in the crook of his neck, feeling his body start to finally relax after hours of stress.
Once they got confirmation from the xray that Shane had in fact fractured his collarbone again. Ilya sends Yuna, David and the centaurs group chat a text letting them know how Shane is going and that they are waiting to be released from hospital.
Shane is still on injury reserve when Ottawa verse Montreal again, Ilya decides to give Comeau a taste of his own medicine. It was a very lucky for him that the lines changes and he would be out on the ice the same time as Comeau, if only for a short time.
As ilya skates to centre ice, he looks over to the team bench. He sees Shane standing with coach, arm still in the sling. It lights a fire in his stomach, he wants revenge. Ilya wins the face off and heads towards Montreals goalie, he slows down enough for Comeau to steal the puck away. Ilya doesn’t care though, he has a plan. He allows Comeau to get a little distance between them, before pushing off his skates with everything he has. He slams Comeau so hard into the boards, he makes his own body hurt a little.
He watches in satisfaction as Comeau writhes around on the floor, clutching at his shoulder. Ilya bends down pretending to look concerned. “That was from my beautiful injured husband, if it was up to me I’d take your fucking head off”. Ilya then smacks his arm a couple times. “Good luck” he growls lowly before skating off to the penalty box. On the bench he removes his helmet and makes eye contact with Shane, shooting him a sexy wink. Loving the way it makes him blush.
Shane just laughs as he continues watching the game. Fuck he loved his husband so much.