InsidePain19



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    His mother’s eyes darken with weariness Shane recognizes instinctually, a grief separate but not wholly unlike his own. A tear makes its way down her cheek, but Shane’s stay put, stubborn, cradled in his lashline like if he doesn’t cry, maybe none of this is as bad as he thinks it is.

    “Just—I just have to ask,” she says. Her voice lowers to a whisper, that ever-steady corner of her mouth wavering as her palm envelopes his cheek. “How long have you been hurting?”

    My whole life, probably, Shane thinks. I'm sorry. I just didn’t know.

    --

    [Or: Shane learns that skill, passion, and meticulous control aren't necessarily immunity, and that rest isn't something he's owed so much as he has to carve out for himself; sometimes with a whisper, sometimes with his pride on the line, sometimes on his hands and knees. And still, regardless, despite—he refuses to give up on this either, even if this time it means believing in himself instead of familiar schedules or rituals. Even if it means his whole life has to change to do it.

    Even if it means having to believe that he's worth that much in the first place.]

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    22 Jan 2026

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    "Rozy," Brian, the team doctor says, "talk to me, buddy. That puck clipped you pretty good, how’s the pain?"

    Ilya blinks. He clenches his jaw against a wave of nausea. He rests his cheek on the ice, and the cold helps a little.

    "Bad. Very bad." He swallows. "Is Shane here?"

    -

    or, in the final MTL/BOS game of the year, ilya takes a puck to the head.

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    16 Jan 2026

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    “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Rozy.” That was a lie; he knew perfectly well what was wrong with him, he just wouldn’t admit it to himself. “I thought therapy would help, and I also thought winning the cup would help, but I guess we’re both just too fucked in the head for that.” Ilya laughs softly, nodding.

    or

    Shane Hollander studied through conversations, interactions, and therapy.

    or

    Shane accidentally gets diagnosed with autism

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    14 Jan 2026