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What a fucking night.
Shane had gone down hard after that hit from Marleau, but thankfully, he was already safely in the hospital. Hayden was eager to head there after the game to check in on him. With Shane’s parents in Mexico, Hayden was the only next of kin. He’d been texting back and forth with Shane’s mom all night.
And of course, after the game they wanted him to talk to the press. It wasn’t like he had anything urgent or pressing to deal with.
He’d gotten a few updates when he called the hospital. Concussion, broken collarbone. Shane was still being fully checked out, but the initial prognosis was that he’d be fine. Standard concussion protocol, but he’d have to stay in the hospital for observation until his parents could fly back and take him home.
Hayden knew it sucked to be stuck in the hospital, but he couldn’t stay and watch Shane. And there was no way he would put that on Jackie. She had more than enough on her plate, even if she would’ve done it. She might even be mad that he didn’t ask her.
Jackie had a blind spot for Shane. He did too. But he had to make sure that blind spot didn’t become a burden.
She was pregnant and had their three kids to take care of, and she was doing a lot of that alone while Hayden was playing captain now that Shane was out.
It wasn’t even like Shane could really stay at their house. The screams of the kids would probably be enough to send Shane straight back to the hospital.
Hayden had quickly showered, put on a suit, and was sitting at the press table. Rosanov sat next to him, looking pale and drawn. Hayden wanted to be shitty, but it wasn’t Rosanov’s fault. He’d even stayed on the ice with Shane, all while Hayden was trying to beat the shit out of Marleau. Maybe not his finest moment.
Rosanov was getting mic’d up when he looked at Hayden. He looked fucking terrible.
“Is he okay?”
As much as Hayden wanted to be a shit, and he would be a shit, he tried to meet Rosanov halfway. “He’ll be fine. No thanks to that fucking gargoyle of yours.”
“Okay.” Rosanov took a shaky breath and nodded. He looked relieved, like he might burst into tears. His father’s death must’ve really fucked with him if he was getting this worked up over Shane.
“Marleau did not mean to hurt him.”
“Yeah, but he fucking did.”
They started closing the doors. The conference would start soon. Hayden settled in, but not before taking a quick glance at Rosanov. He looked like someone had just kicked his puppy.
The first reporter stood up. “Hayden, do you have any updates on Shane Hollander’s condition?”
Hayden leaned into the mic. “The Metros will release an official statement soon, but the initial prognosis is good.”
The same reporter followed up. “Will he be back this season? The Metros are in the playoffs. How will you handle that without a captain?”
Hayden bristled. Reporters annoyed the shit out of him. “It is too early to make any statements on that. As I said, the team will release an official statement when we have more information.”
“As for the playoffs, we are a strong team. While Hollander is a great captain and player, if he ends up being out, the rest of the team will no doubt step up in his absence.”
The press manager selected another reporter, who zeroed in on Rosanov, who’d been staring morosely the whole conference so far.
“Ilya, do you want to comment on the check that downed Hollander?”
Rosanov took a deep breath, then another. “It is scary when any player is hurt, but Marleau did not mean to inflict injury. It was a clean check. The reviews have proven that. But me and the team send our apologies and hope him a quick recovery.”
“Hayden?”
Hayden had to check himself.
He wanted to rail against the hit, say it was cheap and uncalled for.
But the truth was that it was just a bad accident.
“As Rosanov said, it was a clean hit. But even clean hits can cause injury. Unfortunately, it’s part of the sport. I was mad after the hit, and I reacted. But no matter if it was an accident or not, it’s scary when your teammate gets hurt. But it’s a risk we all take when we get on the ice.”
He thought Shane would be proud of his answer. He had a short temper, but Shane never had. He always handled things with a grace and understanding Hayden had never quite understood. But Shane wasn’t here, so Hayden would do his best to carry on in his place.
“Ilya, you stayed on the ice with Hollander after he went down. Care to comment on that?”
Rosanov pulled at his collar. Hayden was very interested in this answer, too. Rosanov hadn’t left Shane’s side until the ref had physically pushed him away. Hayden had seen the replay as they all waited for the official review. It had been weird to see how concerned Rosanov was.
“Um,” Rosanov cleared his throat. This was almost painful to watch. “We have always been on rival teams, but we have always respected each other as players. Hollander and I played together at the All-Star Game this year, and we became friends.”
“I would be concerned for any player that got hurt, but on the ice, I was concerned for my friend.”
The room went silent.
Hayden went silent.
Shane and Rosanov were friends? What the fuck. And Shane hadn’t even told him?
A reporter snapped out of it first. “So is the rivalry over?”
Rosanov looked tired. Like it was the same question he got at every press conference, the only one anyone ever seemed to care about. He smiled anyway. “Not a chance. Hollander better be ready when he comes back. I won’t go easy on him.”
Hayden was stunned. What the actual fuck?
The press wrangler must’ve thought that was a good place to end it, because she motioned to wrap it up. “Thank you all for coming. As Hayden mentioned, we will release a statement on Shane Hollander’s status once we know more. Have a good night.”
Hayden started to unmic himself, and Rosanov did the same. He couldn’t help himself. “Did you really mean all that shit, Rosanov? Or is this some play to get sympathy?”
Rosanov looked stricken, and Hayden immediately felt bad. Jesus. He did mean it.
“Yes. Hollander is friend.”
Maybe because it had been such a weird fucking night, or maybe because Hayden had tried to call bullshit on Shane and Rosanov’s friendship and Rosanov looked like he was going to cry about it, Hayden tried to extend an olive branch.
“Shane’s at CHUM, not Montreal General, if you want to visit. I’m going to go see him after this, but he’ll be open to visitors tomorrow morning. I can let them know you’re coming. If you want.”
Rosanov’s face was a wall. Everything tight and controlled, but his eyes were his weak point. Hayden could see the concern there, the relief at knowing where Shane was.
Jesus Christ, they must’ve really bonded at the All-Star Game. But that short time together couldn’t explain this, could it? They had fucking hated each other. Right. Right?
“Yes. Thank you.” Rosanov nodded, but it betrayed how despondent he was.
Hayden clapped him on the back, just a quick pat. “Uh, yeah, man. No problem.”
They left it at that. Hayden was ready to get out of this black-mirror-ass situation. He had a whole other one to deal with.
Hayden got to the hospital as soon as he could. He let Jackie know. He let Yuna know. He dealt with the forms and made the doctor wait while he got Yuna back on the phone. He might’ve missed his calling as an agent.
He put Yuna and David on speaker when he talked to the doctor. Concussion, broken collarbone, out for the playoffs. Shane would stay in the hospital until Yuna and David could fly back from Mexico.
Then he went to see Shane. He’d put his parents on hold as he made his way to the room. Shane might not even be awake, but when he walked in, Shane was grinning and very high.
“Hey, Hayd! Hey, Hay!” Shane giggled at his dumb joke. Lord save him from four-year-old humor. He got quite enough of it at home.
“Oh, that’s a good one, buddy,” Hayden said in the same tone he used on Ruby. “I’ve got your parents on the phone. Can you try to talk to them a little? They’re very worried.”
He held his phone out and unmuted it. It felt weird, eavesdropping, but honestly, what else was he supposed to do?
Shane started to fade, and Hayden jumped in to wrap up the call. “Shane’s fading pretty fast. I’ll have him give you another call tomorrow.”
“We love you so much, sweetheart. We’ll be there soon!”
Shane only managed a slurred, “I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad.” The words blended together.
“We’ll call tomorrow,” Hayden reassured them.
“Thank you, Hayden. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” Yuna sounded teary, but relieved.
“He’s my best friend. It’s no problem.”
They hung up. Shane was squinting at him through one eye in the already dark room.
“Hayden… ’m I okay?”
Hayden couldn’t help but laugh. He’d never seen Shane like this, almost like a little kid. “Yeah, buddy. You’re going to be fine. You hurt your head and broke your collarbone. You’re on some meds for the pain, which is why you feel weird.”
“Okay… thanks, Hayden. How’s Jackie?”
Hayden laughed again. “She’s fine. She didn’t get hurt today. She wants you to call her tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good. I was worried.”
Poor Shane. He was high out of his mind. Hayden should probably leave him to rest, but then he remembered Rosanov.
“Hey, so… I don’t think you’ll remember this, but on the off chance you do, Rosanov is going to visit you tomorrow. He seemed worried, so I told him you were okay and where you were.”
“Ilyyya?”
“Yes. Uh. Ilya. He said you were friends.”
“He said that?”
“Yeah. Said it happened at the All-Star Game.”
Shane smiled big and dopey. “Yay.”
He sighed and relaxed, sinking into the pillows.
“Okay. You get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Hayden patted his leg and was ready to walk out.
“Thanks for Ilya. He must’ve been worried.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Hayden almost felt like he had a concussion himself. What the fuck was up with Shane and Rosanov. Ilya? Just. What.
What the fuck happened at the All-Star Game?
Hayden was about to leave and let Shane rest, but then he remembered. Lilly. Shit.
“Oh shit, Shane! Do you want me to text Lilly and let her know you’re okay?”
Shane was barely hanging onto consciousness. “Mm… no. You already told him.”
Hayden froze.
Already told him?
Already told him.
After a moment, “Hey. What?”
No response.
A little louder, “What!?”
Shane was dead to the world.
A few things slid into place.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
