Chapter Text
It was stupid, really.
Shane had warned him every time he went out on his motorbike that there was a risk of him getting hurt and each time Ilya was quick to kiss his forehead and assure his husband's worries that he would be fine.
Because he always was.
"Do you have to go?" Shane pouted as Ilya broke away from their kiss. “Anya will miss you.”
Ilya grinned at him. “Oh? Are you sure it’s just Anya and not you?”
Truth be told, Ilya didn't have to go and quite frankly he was close to cancelling his trip, it wasn’t even one of great importance. It was purely a leisure trip, one that his therapist highly encouraged. It was only for the day.
“I’ll miss you too.” Shane said before kissing him again. “Go. Have fun.”
"I'll be back in time before dinner." Ilya promised.
“You better.” Shane chuckled. “Mom is bringing over your favourite.”
Ilya beamed. “I wouldn’t miss her chicken parmesan for the world.”
Shane gave a small chuckle; "Drive safe."
"Of course."
"And to stay alert-"
"Shane."
Shane sighed before kissing him again. "All I’m asking is that you be safe. I love you."
Ilya grinned back at him. "I love you. I promise to be back in time."
⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀
⠀
Ilya was used to flying on the ice. Used to the feeling of gliding through the air with barely any force.
He didn't register it at first, when that same weightless feeling hit him. Or when his body had left the bike to find the ditch down below.
Or the deafening silence that followed afterward.
"We have one male, unconscious on scene."
Ilya gasped and sat up, awoken from his trance.
"I'm awake." He stated, as if it was the most evident thing.
"Tanner, run ECG again. I’m not liking this reading."
Ilya turned to look at the man kneeling next to him, seemingly completely unphased by the fact he was clearly awake and sitting up at that?
Any questions that they had he could easily tell them.
"Shit I don't like how his stats are dropping- how long until the flight team is here!?"
Ilya stood, clearly frustrated that these paramedics weren't listening to anything he was saying. "Flight team? Would somebody please just tell me what the fuck-"
He looked down. He wished he hadn't.
Beneath him, was himself sprawled out in the grass with multiple paramedics surrounding him, working on placing a spinal collar and cutting his clothes. The pool of blood beneath him was becoming increasingly evident.
How could his body store so much?
Fuck.
Was he dead? Surely he wasn’t. This couldn’t be it.
I’m not ready to die.
“Flight teams ETA is 5 minutes. Let’s get ready for transport.”
“Hold on. You need to stay with us.”
I need to stay.
⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀
Ilya wasn’t sure how he had made it to the hospital. One minute he was walking next to his lifeless body and within a blink of an eye, he was inside the hospital, next to his body in the trauma bay, surrounded by a team of doctors and nurses.
Weird.
“Ilya Rozanov. Thirty-three male. Multiple fractures, one compound fracture on the collarbone. Multiple internal injuries-” The paramedic was listing off everything that was wrong with his body, and from the sounds of it, it wasn’t looking good.
The doctor took the report while assessing his body. “Has next of kin been contacted?”
“Not yet ma’am.”
Shane.
Ilya inhaled sharply, he had made a promise to him. He was supposed to be back before dinner. He had promised him he’d be safe.
He can’t leave, not like this. Not now. Not yet.
“I will never forgive you if you get yourself killed riding that death machine.”
“Is fine. I have a helmet.”
The monitor above Ilya’s head began to make an alarm sound. He covered his ears, which ultimately had no effect on the deafening shrill it gave out.
“Right, let's quickly run these scans, and alert the surgical team we have a critical patient enroute to their way.”
The team agreed in unison with the treatment plan as they closed the curtain to prepare his body for both scans, and from what Ilya could put together, surgery. .
Ilya looked around him, watching as medical professionals removed his clothes, including his ring and necklace, which in return made him cringe.
“Am I going to die?” He asked, even though he didn’t know why he was even bothering to ask.
They can’t hear you, idiot, he thought,
The lead doctor, a small woman barely reaching 5ft stepped outside of the curtain from where she was. “I will contact the next of kin.”
Ilya followed her.
He watched as she shook her head solemnly before receiving a clipboard from one of the nurses and made her way to the back office in the emergency department.
This wasn’t a phone call that Ilya wanted Shane to be alone for. Nobody deserved to go through that. Especially Shane.
Ilya watched as the doctor sat down, and took a breath before picking up the phone. It felt like the phone was ringing forever.
On and on.
Part of him hoped that Shane wouldn’t pick up. That maybe he was currently having a nap, after all he was only gone for a couple hours, if that.
“Hi, is this Shane Hollander? My name is Doctor Pasima calling from-”
Actually thinking about time, Ilya started to look around the office, trying to find a clock. When his eyes finally glanced at the one on the wall, he couldn’t make sense of it.
It was an analog and yet, there were only three numbers on the clock. 1,1,1.
Strange.
Ilya’s attention snapped back to the direction of the doctor.
He needed to stay focused. This was important.
Ilya cringed. He already knew Shane would be panicking and there was nothing he could physically do to reassure him that he was in fact okay. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to be.
Not this time.
He wasn’t ready to find out.
⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀
Shane couldn’t breathe.
This had to be a nightmare. This couldn't be real.
“Mr Hollander?” The doctor's voice cut through to him “Are you still there?”
All he could choke out was a weak “Yes.”
He was staring at the pile of dishes in the sink, the very ones he was in the process of washing before getting the call.
“I’m not going to sugarcoat the situation, Shane. Your husband is in a critical condition.”
He felt sick to his stomach. This was his worst fear coming true. He wanted to throw up.
“Please.” he begged quietly. “Please save him.”
“We will do everything we can.”
Hot tears streamed down his face just like that the call was over. In an instant. Now he was left hyperventilating in the kitchen.
He needed to get to the hospital, but he couldn’t get his legs to move, let alone attempt to drive. He couldn’t even think clearly.
It felt as though the world was caving in around him and he didn’t know how to make it stop. Ilya had promised him he would be safe.
He had promised he’d come back home.
“Hi sweetie!” Yuna called out as she walked through the front door of the cottage. “We thought we’d stop by a little earlier! Your dad got a new board game he wants to try with Ilya.”
Shane didn’t respond.How could he? His entire world was being yanked out from underneath him and he couldn't do anything to stop it from happening.
Yuna walked into the kitchen, placing the container on the counter before looking at Shane.
“Shane? Sweetie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She rushed over to him and he collapsed into her arms.
“Ilya.” Was all he managed to sob out.
⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀
Much to Ilya’s dismay, the surgery had been going on for what felt like hours and he was getting tired from watching it.
To be fair, he didn’t want to watch his own body get put back together, Hell he’d rather be out cold completely before watching this. He even tried to touch his body in hopes he could get back to it somehow. But much to his dismay, he was stuck here, like this.
He thought about Shane, and about how distraught he’d be currently. He wanted to call him. Reassure him that it’s okay.
Was it really going to be though? If the roles were reversed and if it was Shane who was in his position, Ilya knew for a fact he’d be destroying everything in his path to get the hospital and Shane wasn’t much different.
“Let’s get another unit of blood going.”
Ilya glanced up at the surgeon and watched as one of the nurses scrubbed out of the theater floor. Ilya ran after them, squeezing past the door before it shut him out.
He might as well get a lay of the land, so to speak. If he were to set up camp here he might as well get familiar with the place. And this definitely beat watching himself get sewn in multiple places.
He called out into the hallway, seeing if anyone else would answer his calls.
Nobody did.
For the first time since the accident, the reality of the situation suddenly hit him.
Ilya was truly alone.