Anonymous asked: ☤ (you know i had to / lovelyrozanova) Send a ☤ to visit my muse in the hospital.
it was all over the news: national television. web articles. and ilya had no idea.
the game started out as usual. the raiders versus the metros. the stadium was packed, it was one of the final games before the playoffs. rozanov and hollander were going at it, goals being scored left and right. it was going to go down as one of the highest-scoring games in history if they kept it up.
it's the third period when it happens. ilya had slowed down, just a bit. he stood to the side for a moment to catch his breath after a goal, bent over, hands on knees. cameras zoomed in on him instantly. "very atypical behavior from rozanov." he assured the ref he was fine and was back out on the ice moments later. a minute passes, maybe two. he's out before he hits the ice. "and rozanov is DOWN—"
utter chaos. the crowd erupts in shock before going silent as they assess him. the reporters go back and forth, narrating what they're seeing. there's a collective gasp as one of the trainers waves an arm for back-up while another starts chest compressions. the rink is silent, as if everyone is holding their breath. they get him back after a few rounds, and then they move. he still doesn't wake. the rest of the game is cancelled. no one is declared a winner. they will have to re-play. without rozanov, no doubt.
ilya comes back in pieces. the first time during an MRI. he's able to open his eyes, and that's about it. the second time is worse. panic sets in. he pulls the oxygen mask from his face, goes straight for the IV in his arm, clutches at his chest in pain from broken ribs. they calm him down, not explaining what happened to him just yet. they're still trying to figure it out, to an extent.
the next two days are a blur. teammates come in and out, most people talk around the elephant in the room and wish him well. shane is the first to tell him the truth about what happened. the sudden collapse. the CPR. the way the news is milking the story like a prized heifer.
it's bright when he opens his eyes. early morning, probably. he feels a soft, small hand wrapped around one of his fingers. the oxygen mask has been replaced with a smaller cannula. he's still hooked up to quite a bit of machinery, but not nearly as much as he was initially.
when he looks to his left, he swears he's hallucinating. katya. it wasn't right. she should be across the ocean. guilt settles painfully in his chest. they hadn't seen each other in what felt like forever. and now here she was. ❝ katyusha. ❞
