Chapter Text
Shane had woken up before Ilya, vaguely hoping that all of yesterday had been one long nightmare, that he would wake up comfortable in Ilya’s bed, comfortably sore after a long night of sex and cuddling.
His hopes were quickly dashed by the loud beeping of the heart monitor attached to him and the uncomfortable feeling of an iv in his arm.
At the very least, Ilya was snuggled up against him, his weight a familiar comfort.
He watched Ilya breathe in and out, bringing a hand to his head to gently run his fingers through Ilya’s hair. He leaned back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, eyes burning. He still felt exhausted, still felt little aches and pains all over from what had happened last night.
(Shane hesitated to call it what it was, even in his head. Because, as bad as it was to think, rape was something that happened to women and children. Something that happened to defenseless people.
He had spent his whole life listening to people talk about how stuff like that would never happen to them. How they would never let stuff like that happen to them, as though it was something you had control over, as though if you lived your life a certain way you were somehow immune to getting taken advantage of.
He knew, logically, that rhetoric was wrong and extremely harmful. But saying that had happened to him felt wrong, felt like he was using a word that wasn’t meant for him.)
Shane’s head throbbed, but it paled in comparison to the tight feeling in his chest. He didn’t even know how he was going to get through today, tomorrow, the next week, the next month. What did you even do after something like this?
He sighed softly. More than anything, Shane felt numb. And it made him feel guilty, because he felt like he should feel bad. Felt like maybe not feeling bad was a sign that what happened to him wasn’t actually that bad, maybe he was overreacting last night, maybe he somehow deserved it-
The door to the hospital room opened. In walked Dr. Kapera from last night, looking as tired as Shane felt. He assumed she’d had a night shift. He hoped she would be able to go home after this, leave the hospital behind and relax.
She raised an eyebrow at the sight of them nudged into the bed together, but didn’t say anything, instead walking over to check Shane’s vitals.
Shane nudged Ilya.
“Ilya, wake up.” Shane murmured. He felt guilty waking Ilya up from his sleep, knowing they’d both struggled to get any form of rest after his nightmare. It seemed like all Shane had been good at recently was fucking up.
He wouldn’t blame Ilya if he wanted to leave. To go sleep with Svetlana or any other beautiful men or women that were most certainly frothing at the mouth to get in bed with Ilya Rozanov.
Ilya opened his eyes, blinking away the tiredness before sitting upright, whipping his head over to glance at Shane in open concern. It made Shane’s chest ache. He didn’t fucking deserve Ilya. He really, really didn’t.
“Are you okay?” Ilya asked. His voice was raspy from sleep.
Shane just nodded.
“The doctor is back. I think she has news.”
Ilya finally caught notice of Dr. Kapera, who was standing in the middle of the room updating Shane’s chart. He blushed (though he would deny it-Russians don’t blush, after all) and gently extracted himself from Shane’s bed, moving back over to the guest chairs.
Shane mourned the loss of Ilya’s warmth. It had reminded him, at least for a few hours, that he was a real person. Had chased away the emptiness that seemed committed to crawling over his whole body until all he could feel was nothing.
Dr. Kapera walked over to both of them, clearing her throat. Shane offered a weak smile, while Ilya sat upright, prepared for any nature of news that could come out of her mouth.
“We got pathology back. Good news-you have no STI’s. We were able to identify Rohypnol in your system, along with unfortunately high levels of ketamine. This explains why your blood pressure has been pretty consistently higher than normal. Over the next few days you may continue to feel waves of nausea and dizziness - I also want to warn you of mental affects. Feeling detached from your body, as well as experiencing dissociative episodes, can be a very common side-affect of ingesting large dosages of ketamine, especially when it is combined with other substances. You will have someone to stay with and watch you?” She asked.
Shane didn’t even bother speaking, a lump in his throat from all the things she was saying. He knew, logically, that rohypnol wasn’t the only date-rape drug, that it was often combined with alcohol and other drugs.
He just didn’t think he would ever experience that. Shane had been extremely disciplined his whole life from a young age, outside of the occasional beer or glass of wine he avoided everything else like the plague.
The NHL did routine drug tests before every season. Shane nearly threw up at the thought of him failing the drug test because of something like this. Something he didn’t even fucking ask for.
He barely registered Ilya responding to her question.
“Yes, he will be with me. I will take care of him. Anything else I need to watch for?” Ilya asked seriously. Shane didn’t even let her open her mouth to respond before blurting out his question, unable to stop the words from rising up his throat and escaping his mouth.
“I have-the NHL, they do drug tests. Every few months. Is this-will the-” Shane broke off, unable to finish his question. His hands were trembling in his lap, chest burning. He’d spent so fucking long saying no to drinks, to the occasional drag of a joint, to cigarettes. He hated the idea of drugs coursing through his body, worked so hard to maintain control over what he ingested all the time.
Fuck. He felt like his blood was unclean, felt like his body was dirty in a way that would never be fixable. Felt like he could peel his skin back and scrub at his bones and he would still feel fucking disgusting.
Bile rose up in his throat. He swallowed it down, ignoring the way his stomach acid burned at his already irritated throat.
Ilya glanced over at Shane, lips pursed in worry. He could see the way Shane was starting to spiral, was more than familiar with the signs. This was already maybe the fourth time within the past twenty hours Shane was working himself into a panic attack, and it made Ilya’s chest ache.
Dr. Kapera, to her credit, did not look phased by Shane’s interruption.
“I understand your concern, especially considering your career. I want to reassure you-this will be fully out of your system within the next forty-eight hours, and after five days, will not show up on any sort of drug test.”
Shane exhaled and shut his eyes, slumping over in relief.
Small mercies.
She then addressed Ilya’s question.
“With regards for what you need to lookout for as his main aid during the next days, the biggest thing is going to be lightheadedness and nausea, as I previously mentioned. You need to remain hydrated, and do not push yourself physically. If you feel even the slightest bit of dizziness, sit down, drink water, and rest. I do not want to scare either of you, but please also watch out for seizures. It is uncommon, but they can happen.”
Ilya nodded, committing everything she said to memory. He glanced over at Shane to see his reaction, only to frown at the glazed over look in his eyes and the way he was distantly staring down at his hands.
“When can we go home?” Ilya asked. He knew Shane was safe at the hospital, knew the best place for him to be was surrounded by medical professionals, but he knew Shane.
After anything bad, but especially something of this magnitude, Shane needed familiarity. His boyfriend functioned best with strict routines and schedules, and within the past few hours he’d experienced so much change, so many new things, Ilya was certain remaining in an unfamiliar place longer than necessary would be borderline detrimental to Shane’s health.
Dr. Kapera smiled a little bit. Ilya allowed himself to hope that she was going to give some good news.
“I’d say within the next two hours. I just want to monitor him a little longer while the iv finishes its course and I finish getting the prescriptions ready, and then you are both free to go. I’m going to recommend over the counter painkillers, but if after a few days the pain is still high, please call and we can figure something else out.”
Ilya was thankful she didn’t want to keep him here all day. Shane had no reaction to the news, something Ilya was unfortunately unsurprised by.
She left the room, and Ilya swiftly stood up and went to Shane’s side, grasping at one of his hands gently. Shane gave a small flinch, blinking a few times before glancing at Ilya. It broke Ilya’s heart.
“Sorry, I-I think I’m still a little off from the, um…you know. What did she say?” Shane asked meekly. He felt utterly embarrassed at his inability to focus, at the way his brain had entirely checked out, remembering hands over his body and the sharp dig of concrete into his knees and a mouth on his skin instead of using its energy to comprehend what the doctor was saying.
Ilya just rubbed his thumb over Shane’s palm, smiling softly. Shane could see the way the corners of his eyes creased in worry.
“Is okay. She said in about two hours we can go home. Oh, also, I think Pike is visiting. Is that okay?” Ilya asked. Shane perked up a bit.
In all his tiredness, he had completely forgotten that Ilya had called Hayden. Shane hadn’t even had the energy to panic over Hayden’s reaction to him being gay, much less him being gay and with Ilya.
Ilya didn’t seem panicked though. He didn’t seem like he was bracing to tell Shane that his best friend hated him.
“How did the phone call go?” Shane asked. He tried to remain calm, but the heart monitor betrayed how anxious he actually felt.
“Went okay. He was less surprised you are gay and more surprised you are with me. I told him you would be okay with visit. Was that okay?” Ilya asked Shane.
Shane just managed a small smile, holding tighter onto Ilya’s hand.
“Yes, thank you for talking to him. Did he say what time he was coming?”
Ilya hummed in the negative, pulling Shane’s phone out and checking. There was a text from Hayden, and Ilya held the screen up to show it to Shane.
“He is on his way.” Ilya said. The room was silent for a few moments, with Ilya hesitating before deciding to bite the bullet.
“Shane, how are you feeling?” Ilya asked genuinely. He was worried Shane would shut him out like he sometimes tended to do. He knew Shane had been supportive when Ilya shared he was starting to see a therapist, and Ilya wanted to repay the favor, but he had no idea how.
How do you support someone after someone like this? He knows pushing will result in Shane pulling away, but doing nothing would kill him. He wants to rewind time somehow, go back to last night and go to the club with Marleau, or convince Shane to skip the club and go right to his.
But he couldn’t. It was impossible, no matter how much Ilya prayed he could go back twenty-four hours and somehow fix everything.
Now all he could do was stand here and hold Shane’s hand, hoping Shane would let him help in any way he possibly could.
Shane considered the question for a few moments before shrugging his shoulders.
“Nothing. I feel…nothing. And I feel bad about it. I feel like I should be, I don’t know, having a huge breakdown or something. But I just don’t feel anything. I don’t know. Maybe if it really was bad I’d be more torn over it? Part of me feels like I’m making a big deal out of nothing.” Shane confessed. The words felt heavy coming out, and they remained in the air, weighing down the hospital room.
It felt sort of freeing to say it out loud. To give the self-hating a voice, to let it take over his brain. Part of him even wanted to convince Ilya that he was overreacting, wanted Ilya to yell at him, to tell him he was being too dramatic and that at least he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.
Ilya just sucked a breath in through his teeth, staring at Shane with deep, open concern.
“You are allowed to feel nothing. But what happened to you was big deal. You are not overreacting. Someone took away your control and hurt you. That is scary. That is big deal. Let it be big deal.” Ilya said insistently.
Shane didn’t say anything for a moment, before he glanced at Ilya’s face with teary eyes.
“It’s not-not weird? That I’m not, I don’t know, panicking or crying or freaking out? Ilya, I don’t feel anything. It’s like my head is away from my body. I think someone could stab me right now and I wouldn’t even flinch. I wish I was crying, or angry, or panicking, because at least that I know how to deal with. I don’t know how to deal with this. I just feel numb.” Shane said.
Ilya nodded. It relieved Shane to see how focused Ilya was on listening to him. Sometimes Shane felt like Ilya was the only one who did, who took the time to understand Shane and his weird fucked up head.
“After my father died,” Ilya started. Shane straightened up a bit, blinking away his own tears and leaning into Ilya. Ilya rarely talked about his family life, much less how he had processed everything.
“I felt nothing. He was…not nice, to me or my mother. And whole funeral I felt guilty, for not being able to stay in Russia and take care of him. For leaving my brother, even though he is asshole, to handle my father and his own family. But mostly, I felt guilty because I did not feel sad he was dead. I felt like bad person, because what kind of son does not cry at his fathers funeral?” Ilya shared. Shane could hear Ilya getting choked up, could see wisps of water welling at the edges of Ilya’s eyes.
Shane just leaned in against Ilya, holding the man's hand tightly while bringing his free arm up to rub at Ilya’s back.
“Ilya…” Shane trailed off. He didn’t know what to say, wished desperately he was better at social situations so he could properly comfort Ilya, properly be there for him.
Ilya cleared his throat.
“I talked to therapist about it. She said when bad things happen, we cannot control our, uh, reaction? Response? And that there is no list of rules for how to feel after. Sometimes on bad days, I get mad. Sometimes I am sad. Sometimes I just lay in bed all day and stare at wall. But my point is, you are always with me. No matter if I am feeling ‘right’ way or not. I know it is not same, but I think idea still works here.”
Shane just stared at Ilya for a long moment. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, wracking his brain for what to say. He knew Ilya was right, he’d never, ever dream of berating Ilya because his depression was making him feel a certain way.
It was one of those things where he was always more critical of himself than anyone else. Shane had read blogs online after Ilya had called him about his fathers death, about how to support someone who was grieving.
But that had felt bigger than this. That had orphaned Ilya, had irreversibly changed his life forever. It felt wrong to compare what Shane was feeling now to the way Ilya had felt.
“I…” Shane opened his mouth to respond, but the words weren’t coming.
In an almost comedic moment of timing, a nurse knocked on the door before opening it, peeking her head into the room. Ilya and Shane instinctively pulled away from each other, despite the fact that it was evident to all of the hospital staff that they were together.
“There’s a Hayden Pike at the reception area saying he’s here to visit you. Is it okay to tell him your room number?” She asked.
Shane pulled himself together. He never knew how to act after a heavy conversation. But Hayden was visiting, and Shane didn’t want one of his few friends to see him act all pathetic. He was already aware that most of the Montreal team thought he was a quiet weirdo who was a little special, he didn’t need Hayden to feel that way too.
“Yeah, he’s my teammate. He can come.” Shane’s voice felt rough and scratchy. Ilya silently grabbed his water, offering it to Shane. Shane took a small sip, ignoring the way the liquid going down his throat was almost enough to have him panicking.
The nurse stared at the both of them for a long moment before narrowing her eyes.
“If he bothers either of you, just tell me and I’ll handle it.” She said sharply. Shane almost giggled at the thought of this 5ft woman kicking out a hockey player nearly a foot taller than her.
He managed a nod, and the nurse left the room, closing the door. Ilya turned to Shane from the chair he had retreated to, smirking.
“I like her. She reminds me of Yuna.” Ilya said proudly. Shane rolled his eyes, relishing in the moment of almost-normalcy they were having. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend they were at Ilya’s apartment or at the cottage, not in a hospital.
“Of course you would say that. I should’ve never introduced you guys. I think you’re her favorite son.” Shane joked. Ilya just shook his head at the comment, though Shane could see his chest puffing up with pride.
Nothing made him happier than Ilya getting along with his parents. The fact that they were trusting him to take care of Shane after…this, it said a lot.
There was another knock at the door.
Shane glanced at Ilya, feeling all of a sudden extremely nervous. This would be the first person in the hockey world who would be seeing him and Ilya together. Ilya nodded at Shane firmly.
“Come in.” Shane said.
The door opened, and in walked Hayden Pike with a duffel bag. He looked out of breath, cheeks flushed a little from the Boston cold, but overall he looked relieved.
He didn’t even glance at Ilya, instead surging over to Shane’s side and dropping the duffel bag, moving to hug Shane before hesitating.
“Is it-can I hug you?” Hayden asked. Shane nodded, leaning in as Hayden gave him a tight bear hug. He resolutely ignored the pang of anger that shot through him at the fact that Hayden had asked first.
Shane knew, logically, that after something like this happened to someone the last thing you wanted to do was touch them without asking. But it still fucking hurt. It just felt like another reminder that this was another thing taken from him-causal, friendly touches.
He pushed it aside for now, instead wrapping his arms around Hayden. After a few seconds Hayden pulled away.
“Shane, man, I’m so fucking glad you’re okay. Seriously. I, uh, brought you some of your clothes from the hotel room. And I’m really sorry I didn’t leave with you last night. I should’ve made sure you got back safe, or had you share your location or something.” Hayden sounded gutted, like he was genuinely upset with himself.
Shane stared at him in disbelief.
“Hayden, don’t apologize. Seriously. It’s not…it wasn’t…” Shane trailed off. He didn’t want to say it wasn’t anyone's fault, because it was.
It was his fault. Plain and simple, the only person who should be blaming themselves here was Shane. Because he had been stupid, had been naive and trusting and look where that led him.
“What’s done is done. No use thinking about stuff you can’t change. There was no way you could’ve known anything would happen. Okay? You’re here now. That’s what I care about more.” Shane said firmly.
He ignored the hypocrisy he was spewing. Ignored the way Ilya’s eyes were burning into him, certain Ilya wanted to point out how self-depracating he was being, giving Hayden grace he wouldn’t give to himself.
Whatever. Shane felt irritation seep into him, and then immediately bit the inside of his cheek, shoving it deep, deep below the pit in his stomach.
Hayden nodded, squaring his shoulders back. He seemed to sense the tense atmosphere that had bled into the room.
“So…there weren’t any nice men in Montreal? You had to go with him?” Hayden asked lightly, jerking his finger to point at Ilya. The topic change was a little forced, but Shane was grateful for it regardless.
Ilya scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. Shane just rolled his eyes at the two of them.
“That’s like, almost exactly what my parents said too.” Shane said. He enjoyed the way Ilya’s face flushed just a little bit and the way Hayden’s eyebrows rose up to his forehead.
He glanced rapidly between Shane and Ilya.
“You’ve met David and Yuna?” He asked Ilya incredulously. He turned back to Shane. “I don’t want to pry, man, but like, how long…?” He let the question trail on.
Shane shrugged, tilting his head to the side a little.
“How long have I been gay? Or how long have I been seeing Ilya?” Shane asked. He was trying to keep the atmosphere light and calm, but the topic always made him anxious. He wasn’t used to being allowed to talk about this in the open air.
“Both, I guess.” Hayden responded.
Shane just hummed to himself, locking eyes with Ilya in a silent question. Ilya nodded at Shane, looking as stoic as ever. He knew Ilya wanted to be more open with their relationship. It was one of the things he loved about Ilya, how loudly he loved others.
Maybe one day, Shane would be able to handle being open with their relationship. Being able to go on cute dates together, talking about each other in interviews and in the locker room.
“We’ve been…uh, seeing each other since the summer before rookie season. I’ve been gay basically forever. I tried really, really hard to not be, but. It didn’t. Really work.”
Shane silently berated himself for once again bringing the mood down. Ilya and Hayden were looking at him with sad eyes.
Hayden cleared his throat.
“Well, thank you for telling me. Both of you.”
Shane nodded, unsure of how to respond. He was always going to tell Hayden at one point or another, it just sucked that it happened the way that it did.
“You’re one of my closest friends, Hayden. It means a lot that you’re okay with, you know, me. And if it’s okay with Ilya, you can tell Jackie, too?” Shane ended his statement with more of a question.
“Yes, is fine. I know Pike cannot keep secret from his wife even if it would kill him.” Ilya interjected, sounding like he was having the time of his life chirping Hayden. Hayden scowled at Ilya.
“Hey! I can keep a secret from Jackie, thank you very much.”
Shane’s face broke into a smile.
“He kind of has a point, Hayden. She has you whipped.” Shane added cheerfully to the teasing, enjoying the way Hayden was reacting.
“Oh my god, he’s turning you into an asshole too. This is-Shane, you really couldn’t have found someone else? I could’ve hooked you up with like, my cousin. He’s a very nice gay real-estate agent. Very normal. Not evil.” Hayden added that last part under his breath, though both Shane and Ilya both heard it.
“Ah, but I have on good authority Shane likes evil asshole Russian hockey player with big muscles who is super hot.” Ilya said smugly. Shane flushed, glaring light-heartedly at Ilya.
Hayden just blinked a few times, narrowing his eyes at Ilya.
“You added some shit in there that I didn’t say. But to each their own, I guess. Just-” Hayden broke off, looking seriously at Shane all of a sudden.
“You love him? He treats you well?” Hayden asked genuinely. Shane broke into a soft smile and nodded, glancing at Ilya feeling so in-love it almost hurt.
“I love him. He’s seriously-there’s no one else for me. He’s it.” Shane said genuinely. Ilya’s gaze softened as he looked at Shane.
“I love you too, моя любовь.” Ilya murmured in response.
Hayden just glanced between them, exhaling in surprise.
“Wow. You really…you really love each other. Shit. Okay, I can be normal about this. Your NHL rival since literally your rookie year is head-over-heels for you. Which is kind of super weird because you both still act like you hate each other on the ice, so…? Is it like, weird foreplay or something?” Hayden asked curiously. Shane scowled, slapping Hayden hard in the shoulder, face bright pink.
Ilya just grinned.
“You do not want answer to that, Pike.” Ilya said.
Hayden scrunched his face up.
“Ew. I’m not grossed out because you’re both men having sex, by the way. Just because you’re my best friend and that’s Ilya Rozanov. Just to, like, clarify. Totally chill with guys having sex. With each other, I mean.”
Shane just glared harshly at Hayden.
“Stop. Talking. I swear to god.”
Hayden very wisely shut his mouth. Ilya grinned, but it was quickly wiped off his face when Shane directed his glare towards Ilya, replaced with a properly cowed expression.
While the teasing was really nice and made Shane feel a little bit better, he could feel his chest tightening at the mention of sex. Which made him feel really fucking upset, because he truly didn’t care about talking about his sex life with Ilya. Was it a little embarrassing? Sure. But never before had it felt like such a heavy topic.
Sex talk before was always awkward for Shane. Now it felt like a wound rubbed raw, like a heavy word that hung in his head, because now when he heard the word sex it didn’t conjure up images of him and Ilya tangled in bed together.
All he thought of was blood, bruises, harsh words, being pinned against the uncomfortable ground, lightheaded and barely unable to understand what was going on until it was over.
Ilya seemed to notice Shane start to spiral, leaning forward prepared to help Shane if it got worse.
“Can I ask-absolutely no pressure at all, man, but uh, what should I tell the team at lunch this afternoon?” Hayden broke the silence and asked.
Ilya wanted to glare at Pike. Because before, even though the topic of sex seemed uncomfortable and bad, at least Shane was somewhat starting to process. Now though, Ilya watched in real time as the topic of hockey and the team caused Shane to dissociate completely.
They had been doing so good. Shane had been present and joking with Hayden here, feeling things and talking. Now though, Ilya felt like they were back at square one. One look at Hayden showed that he hadn’t noticed Shane’s dissociative state.
But…Ilya tried his hardest to extend his patience to Pike. The man was rocking back and forth on his heels, obviously looking concerned and unsure about how to handle Montreal with the delicate situation Shane and Ilya were in.
“I guess…tell them I had a medical emergency. That I’m staying in Boston for a few days while I recover. My mom is handling talking to coach and stuff. I think she’s also going with the medical leave reasoning, keeping it vague. I think if coach knew the truth I’d be traded by the end of the week.” Shane said bitterly.
Hayden hesitated.
“I don’t-I think they’d be okay about it, maybe?”
Something in Shane’s chest tightened. He glared sharply at Hayden.
“Don’t. Don’t. I’ve been in those locker rooms before. I’ve heard it all, Hayden. She was asking for it, she should’ve known better, going out wearing that and then getting drunk. Oh, guys can’t get-you know, because there’s no scenario in which a woman could take advantage of a man. And god forbid they found out I was gay, too. I know what they would say. How do we know I didn’t like it? Didn’t ask for it? Maybe I got drunk and came onto him, because gay guys are into every single man they see, don’t you know? Just-just leave it.” Shane heaved out, chest burning. To his intense humiliation he could feel tears burning down his face.
The room was quiet.
Shane turned his head away. He didn’t want to see the expression on Hayden’s face. He was sure in the future he’d feel guilty about his outburst, but right now he was focused on not yelling for everyone to just fucking leave him alone.
He wanted to yell. Wanted to scream. Wanted to throw things. Was hit with the intense urge to break things, to wander out and get into a fight with the first person he saw, could feel his blood burning under his skin because everything was wrong, because Shane was dirty and disgusting and he felt like it was his personal job to push away everyone who cared about him so they didn’t get disgusting too.
Shane heard the sound of footsteps. Then the sound of a door closing. He continued to face the wall, lips pursed shut, hands trembling, barely holding himself together. He had managed to push away the one person other than Rose and Ilya who cared about him.
Congrats, Hollander. You’re on a roll. All you do is fuck everything up. Maybe you should get a medal-worlds worst person alive.
Footsteps approached the bed. He felt the bed dip as Ilya sat down next to him, nudging him over. The other man didn’t say anything.
Shane’s eyes burned. He felt a deep, deep burning in his chest, as though someone had carved through his skin and opened his ribs up, reaching their hands in and wrapping thorns around his bones before closing his chest up with duct tape and string.
He felt mean. He felt like he was a walking, talking plague, full of rot. Felt like all he did was ruin everything all of the time, like just getting near him was enough to make everyone miserable.
Ilya deserved better.
Ilya had his own wounds to heal, his own life to live, deserved someone who was better than Shane. Someone who he could love openly, who was calm and easy-going, who could socialize normally, who was able to get through the day without freaking out because the lights were too bright and the texture of his food was off.
Ilya deserved someone who could support him while he healed. He shouldn’t have to deal with Shane’s burdens on top of his own.
It felt like everyone around him would just have an easier time if Shane was gone, if maybe he didn’t exist at all.
Shane swallowed past the lump in his throat, letting out a choked out sob.
“I want to leave.” He sniffled out. He allowed Ilya to set a hand on his thigh, ignoring the way his tears dripped down onto his pants.
Shane could feel Ilya nod his head.
“Okay, I will find doctor. We will leave, go back to mine.” Ilya said firmly.
Shane didn’t bother to correct Ilya-tell him that he wanted to leave, like really leave. Go to sleep forever and never wake up again, bury himself six feet under where his rot couldn’t infect anyone else, slice his skin open and dig his fingers in and remove the thorns from his bones.
He didn’t say anything at all, didn’t even turn to watch as Ilya stood up to press the call button for the doctor to come. He just shut his eyes, leaning back into the bed. It felt like he had a huge weight sitting right on his chest, pressing into him until everything was cracking from the pressure.
Dr. Kapera came into the room. Shane could tell it was her from the clicking of her heels. He forced himself to sit up, prying his eyes open. It burned, like they had been glued shut. He brought an arm up to wipe at his face, hoping it would wipe away the evidence that he had been crying.
He still didn’t look at Ilya. Couldn’t look at Ilya.
Because the moment he did, he would break. He could feel it building under his skin, the numbness from earlier quickly giving way to a sense of strain that was pulling him apart tendon by tendon, nerve by nerve.
Dr. Kapera looked concerned at Shane’s state, glancing at Ilya. Ilya just shook his head. He didn’t know how else to indicate that this wasn’t due to anything physical, wasn’t distress from Hayden visiting, was unfortunately just…long overdue.
“Right, it’s been about two hours. Here are the discharge papers, as well as my contact information and the prescriptions. Additionally, I’ve provided the information of the local police department in case you would like to take legal action. Take care of him, please, and don’t hesitate to come back if anything seems wrong.”
Ilya nodded, holding the clipboard with the papers like it was a fragile object. Shane just continued to stare forwards, even after Dr. Kapera left.
“Do you…want to go to police?” Ilya asked about halfway through filling out the discharge information. It occurred to him that while they had set aside the clothes with evidence and done a rape kit, him and Shane had never truly discussed the topic.
Shane just shook his head, finally turning to look at Ilya. Ilya, to his credit, looked calm and put together. It made Shane feel worse, like he was being totally fucking psychotic for nothing. He was sure Ilya was stressed and exhausted, but he managed to hold it together, unlike Shane.
“I just want to go to yours. Please, Ilya, I just want to fucking leave.” Shane said, voice breaking with desperation. He needed to lock himself in Ilya’s huge bathroom and shower for two hours, break down and sob until he could barely breathe and then put himself back together again in private, pretend like he would be okay alone.
Ilya finished with the papers, setting them aside.
“Okay, okay, we will go. Do you want help changing?” Ilya gestured to the duffel bag at the foot of the hospital bed full of clothes that Hayden had brought. Shane shook his head, instead slowly sliding off the bed and standing up.
His body felt weird, in the way it always did when he was given any kind of pain medication. He was sure it was also a side effect of the drugs still being flushed out of his system. He leaned over, fighting a wince and unzipping the duffel.
Shane made quick work of taking off his hospital gown, throwing on a soft oversized shirt and some sweats that he’d had since junior year of high school. He ignored the way his body ached and protested at all the movement, the way his hips fucking hurt and his back ached.
He straightened up. Glanced at Ilya, who had been watching Shane with open concern every time he winced or made a face. Ilya grabbed at the duffel bag, swinging it over his shoulder. He put on a cap and a face mask, pulling his hood over his head.
He also offered Shane a beanie, sunglasses, and a face mask of his own. Shane gratefully took them.
Shane felt like he was in a daze the whole walk out of the hospital. It wasn’t super full, luckily, but he did see one or two people in the waiting room do a double take at him. He prayed they didn’t post anything online if they had recognized him.
They left. The outside air felt brisk and cold and twirled around Shane like it was taunting him, reminding him of what had happened last time he was outside.
Shane followed Ilya to the parking lot. He was unsure of the logistics, of how they were taking a car and not an uber, because he was pretty sure they had taken one last night, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He trusted Ilya.
Silently, Shane slid into the passenger side of the car, resting his head against the cold glass of the window. Ilya started up the car, hesitating before leaning over and gently kissing Shane’s hand.
Shane was grateful Ilya didn’t ask permission first. He might throttle him, or throw himself out of the car, or bash his head into the dashboard until his blood was everywhere and he was blissfully unconscious.
“Let’s go home. I…will not pretend to know how you are feeling, because I do not. I have never been through this before. But I am not leaving, okay? I will never leave. Not ever. So do not hold yourself back for me. Even if you yell and scream and cry, I will not leave.” Ilya reassured.
Shane’s chest loosened, just a little. He shut his eyes against the window, inhaling and exhaling deeply.
“I don’t deserve you.” Shane said, almost bitterly.
Ilya sighed sadly.
“Wrong. Ehh. Loud buzzer noise. You deserve everything I can give and more. You deserve maybe better than me, but you picked me, so I will give you everything I have. I love you.”
Shane couldn’t bring himself to smile, but Ilya managed to make him feel a little less heavy. It was like magic, somehow.
“Love you too. Let’s go home?” Shane whispered.
Ilya nodded. The car started moving, the thrumming of the engine giving Shane something to focus on that wasn’t his own head.
“Yes. Let’s go home.”