Chapter Text
Hayden turned the key in the lock as it clicked and pushed through the front door. The large frame opened to the sleek build of the lake house with warm woods lining the flooring and accents. It had taken Hayden forever to snag a key from Shane for the place which was rude. He had seen the cottage tour video they'd posted years ago and not once was Hayden invited to Shane's special oasis-not until one Ilya Rozanov became a constant in Shane's life. And thus his life too.
What a joke that was.
Yet here he was, the ever dutiful friend running out to Ottawa for Shane because he forgot a document sheet for the meeting he was stuck at currently with his parents and publicist. Apparently the photo evidence was necessary and Rozanov was busy at practice. Also Hayden wanted to maybe leverage this against Rozanov when they met up again. Not because he actually thought he was a shitty partner, but because the accusation alone pissed him off to no end.
Shane said it was somewhere in the living room probably and Hayden was just about to look around the room when he heard a faint cry. Uneasiness crept over him as he slowly tiptoed closer to the kitchen where he could hear it more strongly. No one was supposed to be home and yet.
When he peered around the corner his face paled at the sight.
Ilya was hastily scribbling on a note pad while a pile of pills laid next to a bottle of vodka. There were dozens of pill bottles strewn across the counter and uncapped; emptied.
Never did Hayden think he would see Rozanov and feel his legs drop out from him.
"What..." he muttered softly. Too afraid to finish the sentence.
Ilya jolted upright with a panicked expression. His eye flickered to the pills, then the bottle, then back to him. "Is nothing."
Hayden watched him without uttering a word. Ilya's face was dampened with tears, his cheeks blotchy and red. And his hands were shaking, itching to reach out.
He caught the movement before Ilya could finish. He rushed over and didn't hesitate to knock his hand away from the counter.
Hayden wrapped his arms around Ilya’s, trapping them against his body. He wasn’t the strongest but he held the man tightly as he tried to thrash him off. His shoulders hunched tight as his body rattled out shaky breaths. Hayden could feel the throttle building up and squeezed tighter as Ilya tried to pry his arms free. When his movements remained restrained, his body slowly started to loosen in his grip. Slower, steady breaths came out-and then a quiet sob ripped from his throat.
Ilya let his weight sink and pulled Hayden to the floor with him.
He could hear his ragged breathing build until as he spit out harshly. “Fucking leave, Pike!”
Hayden held him for a moment and then let go. Ilya slid against the cabinet as Hayden took a seat beside him.
“No.”
Ilya knocked his head back against the cabinet hard. “Why? Want to make fucking joke. Go ahead, joke. Ha-ha very funny. Now leave.”
He scoffed. Kicked Ilya's bare foot with his sock clad one. “Fuck you, Rozanov. I’m not leaving.”
Ilya stared hard at the fridge across from them, catching his muddled reflection against the steel.
Ilya sighed. “You are stupid.”
Hayden shrugged. Hardly an insult compared to the many vivid and creative words Ilya had produced over the years.
“You told Shane you were at practice. You never went, did you?”
Ilya turned to him with red-rimmed eyes and a snide expression. “Oh, are you Einstein now?”
He could take the bait, let Ilya have some level of satisfaction at angering him. Instead he fixed his gaze ahead and rolled his eyes. "This isn't something to hide. You have to talk to people."
Ilya laughed dryly. “No. Is not very Russian of me.” He didn't say how there was no one to tell. That he only had Shane and Svetlana, neither of whom he could willingly face while sharing something so sickly. He could not burden them with this. "We are not soft and weak like Canadians."
Hayden frowned at his comment. "You're not weak for this."
Ilya only rolled his eyes and turned away from him fully. Hayden wondered if he actually saw himself like that. It was strange, knowing how cocky and prideful Rozanov always appeared, to suddenly be so fragile and timid. To show the slightest emotion besides being the cocky bastard he knew looked like Ilya's body rejected every fiber of it. Like it was wrong.
He thought back to Jackie, after the twins and how she had acted similarly. The glum, sullen gaze plastered over her face like cement.
Hayden cleared his throat. "Doesn't make you wrong, you know." Ilya lulled his head to stare at him with disbelief. "I'm serious. Jackie-okay you can't repeat this cause I've never told anyone, but Jackie went through something similar."
“Not even Shane?”
“Especially not Shane.” Hayden gave a firm glance before continuing. "I'm sure you know about how she had complications with the one pregnancy."
Ilya nodded. "Da, was scary for her."
"Well after, it wasn't just the scare that had her off for a while. Post-partum is what they call it I guess, but she wouldn't touch the kids. She would scream at me to get them away and then she'd curl up and stare at the wall with this glazed over expression." Hayden felt a hand lightly tap over his. His eyes flickered down to see Ilya already pulling his hand back. "It was rough for a while, but talking to someone helped. Gave her a place to unleash all the bad she was carrying around."
"I'm sorry, Pike. For you and Jackie." He turned to Hayden with a tight grimace. "But I have people. I have Shane, Svetlana.”
Hayden's stomach churned. Just two people. No family. “Yeah but you don’t tell them this.”
Ilya waved a hand. "Ah is not something I need to. I am good most the time."
“You and your pride.” Hayden laughed softly. “I know you don’t have the same unit of people behind you, that your family isn’t around, but you can talk with me.”
Ilya looked at him. “We are not friends.”
He shrugged. “No, not good ones. Maybe that’s why it’s easier. No pressure and all that.”
“And what, you don’t hold this against me? You don’t run off to tell Shane and impress your crush.” Jesus, he and Jackie were never letting that one go.
Hayden flicked his shoulder. “Shut up. No. Just between me and you.”
Ilya stayed silent, mulling it over. Then, so quietly, he uttered a single reply. “Why?”
“Cause it would kill Shane.” An image of Shane finding him flashed through his mind. He shook off the chill it sent down his back. “Also you don’t suck so bad. Wouldn’t have someone to piss me off on the ice.”
Finally Ilya laughed. Not so mangled and wounded.
"I will not pay you for this. No favors."
Hayden threw his hands up in surrender. "Its just talking. No favors."
Ilya nodded at that and turned to look back at the fridge, spacing off somewhere in his mind. A hand fiddled with the golden cross tied around his neck in small anxious movements. Hayden didn't usher a response from him though. He simply waited.
"My mother was like this." Ilya continues to turn the cross over between his fingers. "She was, uh, not happy with her life I think."
Hayden nudged his shoulder lightly in reassurance.
"She loved me, but was not enough. There is not proper English word; tоска по родине is what we say." Hayden wondered what it meant, if it was something deeper than sadness etched in the phrase. Ilya continued. "I found her. And still I am angry with her sometimes, but I also understand. Is not easy."
A heaviness sat in his chest. He couldn't imagine stumbling upon his mother dead as such a young age. The thought alone was shaken away like it would cement itself in reality if it lingered too long.
"It's not wrong to be conflicted."
"It's weak." He whispered. "I never thought of her as that-she was closest to my father who was not easy. But I know what this is, I do not sit under my father's watch. Should be able to stand up and chase it away."
“It’s all just, brain chemistry.” Hayden waved his hand. “Doesn’t make you weak.”
Ilya scoffed.
“I’m serious. My heads always spinning a million thoughts around and everything gets all scattered. I’m fucking hyperactive and forget a lot of shit and it makes me come off like a moron sometimes, but it doesn’t make me any weaker.”
He turned to really look at Ilya. The wet stains littered around swollen eyes and puffy red cheeks doing little to hide his feelings.
“Tell ‘stupid fucking Pike’ whatever is hurting you. Can even curse me out while you do it.”
Ilya sniffled. “You are not so bad. Is why Shane likes you.”
“Could say the same about you.”
Ilya hummed and kept silent again. It was odd, having this peacefulness with Rozanov. It was foreign, and the quiet unspoken elephant dangling over them made it even stranger. They didn't chat like this, they knew insults. Not this openness.
"I want people to know. About me and Shane." Ilya crossed his legs and sat up straighter. "Ottawa is boring and I can't even hold his hand or give him kiss."
Oh. Wow.
"Have you talked at all with him about it?""
Ilya let out a sigh. "No I have not. Is pointless. He wants to wait till we retire."
"I know he's a little neurotic-"
"Extremely." Ilya added.
"Okay, extremely neurotic, but he loves you so much. I think if you talked with him..." He trailed off.
Hayden thought back on the conversations he'd had with Shane about his relationship. Of course, he understood the fear was vastly different than most secrets players kept. It wasn't a choice or action he took, but who he was that people would judge. Every time though when he mentioned how maybe now it would be a good time, Shane brought up how they had a plan. Ilya played for Ottawa while he played for Montreal and then they retired out to this secluded cottage. Shane always made it seem like it was the plan the both of them had contrived, that it was solid. But maybe Ilya never let Shane believe it was something he didn't want.
"Have you ever told him? That you're unhappy about it?"
Ilya frowned and shook his head. "No he does not need to know. Shane doesn't like when things go off routine."
Hayden chuckled. That was an understatement. "Shane's not naive, though. Sometimes things don't go to plan."
"I don't want to upset him."
At that, Hayden turned his body fully to face him. He scoffed loudly. "And, what, finding you dead wouldn't? Yeah keep calling me stupid."
Ilya didn't react. "Is different."
"You're right. It's worse."
A irritated groan rumbled in his throat. "It is not easy for me! And Shane is very difficult he does not understand most times!"
"Which is why you need to be direct with him. You know he doesn't catch subtleties." Hayden caught the muttered grumble Ilya retorted with but ignored it. "Not saying you have to tell him everything, but at least tell him what's making you hurt."
Hayden's phone rang in the silence and he pulled it out to see Shane's name flashing across the screen. Right, the document. He held a finger up to Ilya and answered.
"Hey Shane-" Immediately Shane's panicked voice came through.
"Are you there yet? We really need the document."
"Yeah, no, I'm here. Traffic was bad, but I'm heading in now. I'll send it over." Hayden stood with a sigh and then let out a laugh when he caught Ilya's gaze.
"See. Difficult." Ilya gestured his hand to the phone with a small smile.
Hayden shook his head and offered a hand out to pull Ilya from the floor. "You know what he's talking about? He'll call back if I can't find it."
Ilya nodded and moved slowly out the kitchen, just barely sparing a glance at the counter. He shuffled around in the living room until he reappeared with a laminated sheet in hand.
He dropped it in Hayden's hand to snap a photo.
Once he'd sent it off he turned back to the kitchen counter where Ilya was separating the pills. He watched as he counted the pills up and dropped them back in the bottles before screwing the caps on.
Hayden picked one of the filled bottles up and read the prescription. Then another. They appeared be Ilya's, mostly all of them outdated. "All from old injuries?"
Ilya nodded. "Da. Emergency pills now."
"Okay." Hayden began collecting the bottles and shoving them into his pockets.
"What the fuck?"
He shrugged. "Mark me down as an emergency contact. I'll give you them if you really need it."
Hayden bit back his laugh when Ilya scowled at him. "Is not funny Pike."
"I'm doing this for your safety, asshole."
"Fine. See if I help you with little Shane task again." He crossed his arms and looked away from him. The threat was futile and they both knew it. Ilya was much softer than he allowed himself to be in front of people. Its why he and Shane worked, Hayden supposed. Shane didn't hold judgement in the same way most people did, and instead he had this unaware openness to people. His blunt way of saying things he wanted off his chest without a care probably made it easy for Ilya to let down his walls, seeing someone act so openly to him. He still was an asshole half the time and Hayden was never going to give Ilya the satisfaction of knowing he held a small soft spot for him.
Hayden gathered the rest in hand and made to leave the kitchen. He paused without turning back. "I won't tell him. Promise."
It was quiet but light when he said it. "Thank you."
He gave a silent nod and head out.