Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Kitty has been with him always.

The cougar has walked beside him in every life.

Shane loves her unconditionally and absolutely.

She is his first memory.

An invisible wall of feline keeping him safe from the world, psionically wrapping around the part of him which is and always will be sentinel.

His second memory is dreaming of Ilya – not that he had known the place inside him which resonated of guide was Ilya, just the soul deep knowledge that his guide was out there in the world waiting for Shane, the same way Shane was waiting for his guide. He only knows that with his guide he is tethered, anchored, loved.

His third memory is his mother’s smile, the softest of her smiles which warms him from the inside out as she finishes tying up the laces on his skates. His fourth memory is of his father’s large hand holding Shane’s as he guides him in his first walk out onto the ice.

After that, Shane’s early memories are mostly the rush of skating, the thrill of speed and the rasp of a blade against the cold beneath him.

o-O-o

Zolushka is with him always.

His wolf has guarded his back in every life.

Ilya loves her wildly, unreservedly, with every breath of his being.

She is his first memory.

She is the invisible canine who protects his every step into the world, psionically sheltering the part of him which is and always will be guide.

His second memory is the immutable feeling of Shane – of his sentinel and the deep soul connection to his other half. It is a comfort to know without conscious thought that his sentinel is out there waiting for him. Ilya holds the sense of him close – his sentinel is his tether, his anchor, for he loves and is loved.

His third memory is his mother’s joyous laugh as she walks him onto the ice; he drowns in the memory of it every time she holds him; her loving protectiveness, her bravery, her strength. She is like a second wolf who puts herself in front of him time and again. There is a flash of an angry man and a bitter brother in the memory but he ignores them in favour of his mother.

After that, Ilya’s memories are mostly the rush of skating, the thrill of speed and the rasp of a blade against the cold beneath him.

o-O-o

Shane doesn’t really register anything that happens before the parking lot.

He is six and he is aware that the day out was long and he is very tired.

He holds tightly to his mother’s hand and kind of wishes his father was carrying him instead of the shopping bags. He hears the quiet rhythm of conversation between his parents, not the specific words or sentences just the melodic cadence of his mother and his dad’s answering timbre.

He wrinkles his nose at the smell of the garbage and rubber as they walk through the parking lot.

A group of stinky older boys are nearby and there is a jeer –

a slur which his mother always tells him to ignore,

something in a taunting tone,

a quiet snick of metal – which he barely has time to think about because Kitty decides enough is enough.

Shane isn’t too bothered that Kitty physically appears for the first time landing on the boy who had clearly said something nasty to his mother. He doesn’t know what the threat was really, only that both his parents had soured in fear at the shouted words and…

Kitty doesn’t like the boy she’s standing on at all. She’s not inclined to move from snarling in his face. Shane wrinkles his nose at the smell of urine. Shane doesn’t see why Kitty should get off him when the panting security guard asks. Still, when his parents’ protectors emerge, Shane can maybe accept that they are acceptable guards.

They wait with the sweaty security guard until his father returns from dumping the shopping.

His mother picks him up to carry him to the car because he is very sleepy. In the back of his mind, the place which anchors him to his guide vibrates with a wave of comfort. It soothes the last remnants of his fury and anger.

Shane lets himself slide into sleep.

They’re all safe now.

o-O-o

Ilya doesn’t really like Father.

Father is a dark cloud; a looming figure in a uniform who feels hard and sharp; anger wrapped in a sour stink.

Ilya learns not to be loud around Father and Zolushka invisibly wraps herself around him every time Father is close, muting the sickly wrong, wrong, wrong that hovers on the edge of Ilya’s understanding until Ilya can tolerate it.

She helps him ignore his brother’s bitterness too; comforting him when the sly sharp pokes and pinches of Alexei’s fingers are a little too deep, a little too painful.

His mama’s own pain flickers through the psionic plane whenever Father is home. He feels the never-ending ache, sometimes physical, sometimes soul-deep, and clumsily tries to soothe it away as much as he can every day reaching out instinctively.

Ilya knows he worries his mama too, or rather his being a latent guide worries her because Russia is not a safe place for their kind. He knows he has to keep it a secret from everyone especially Father.

He is tucked into bed, snuggling under the warm sheets; the familiar scent of the fresh laundry lulling him into sleep with every breath and…

His mama’s resigned alarm shoots through the shielding bubble Zolushka keeps him within, Father’s intent to hurt her is as clear as though Ilya was stood right next to him.

Ilya flinches at the hot searing slap of it.

Zolushka decides enough is enough. She forms into physical being right on top of Ilya.

For a second, the heavy weight of her sprawled over him mutes everything.

Ilya blinks and the world zooms back in.

The sense of Father is leaving the house. He feels distracted and distant. In his heart, Ilya knows he is now always going to be distracted and distant. Personally, he thinks this is a Good Thing.

Like skating.

His mama deserves not to be afraid. He can feel her fluttering confusion drift across the psionic plane.

In the back of his mind, the place which anchors him to his sentinel sings with steadfast approval and Ilya is satisfied in a bone deep way that he has done the right thing.

He’s suddenly very tired.

He falls asleep between breaths.

They’re safe now.

o-O-o

Shane is pretending to be asleep when it happens.

He’d climbed into bed at the usual time, but he’s not settling like he usually does. Something nags at him and makes him fidget.

Kitty seems to feel the same way. She prowls around the room, pacing back and forth.

He’s mostly trying to ignore the sense of wrong and replaying his time at the rink over in his mind. How he could have gone a little faster, made a turn a little quicker…

THREAT!

The screaming cry comes from the most guarded part of him; the part which shields his guide.

Kitty jumps on his bed and his hands sink into her fur and…

His bedroom disappears.

His eyes open wide as he finds himself immersed in the blue warmth of the psionic plane, the image of a vast snowy plain stretching out in front of him bordered by wintry mountains in the distance flickers.

Another beat.

He’s in another bedroom.

A man dressed in black is right in front of him, his back to Shane. He’s reaching for Shane’s guide (blond and cute and sunshine so scared) and he reeks of badness…

Shane kicks the Bad Guy hard in the back of his legs, regretful that he is not wearing his skates and that he doesn’t have his hockey stick.

Bad Guy spins around, his hand rising to hit Shane and…

“NYET!” Shane’s guide shouts, his hand reaching out as though he’s pushing something at the man.

Maybe he does because Bad Guy staggers, clutching at his head.

Kitty growls and roars and…

Shane jumps on the bed to get out of her way as she leaps…he scrambles up the bed and his guide is suddenly there pulling him away to safety and they clutch onto each other…

Bad Guy’s breathing stops with a gurgled scream, his heartbeat a moment later.

“Holy shit!” Shane mutters. He should probably feel sorry about someone dying but Bad Guy was going to hurt his guide and he finds he’s not terribly sorry that Kitty decided to end him.

His guide shivers in his arms.

Shane holds him tightly.

For a moment, they simply breathe together.

In another room, Shane hears the sound of movement and cocks his head. He’s not online but his latency still means he’s better than most mundanes.

“Is Mama,” his guide whispers.

Shane feels the tug of the psionic plane pulling him back.

His guide kisses his cheek, green eyes wide and bright with tears. “Sentinel.”

“Guide,” Shane whispers back. He can feel the tug even more now. “Kitty will stay!”

He barely has time to get the words out, he’s yanked painfully back, falling through the blue and landing in his own bed with a thump.

His parents’ relief swamps him; all he can hear is their racing heartbeats, gasping breaths, and suddenly their hugs are too tight even if he takes in deep gulps of their scents.

It is all too exhausting and he doesn’t have Kitty.

His spirit slides back to the psionic plane without any thought.

Warm blue surrounds him, cradles him. He lets himself sink into its embrace gratefully.

When he adjusts and focuses, he sees that he’s in a cave, sitting cross-legged on the ground. His guide is there too right in front of him. The shadows of their protectors stalk the walls.

“Are you safe?” asks Shane hurriedly, reaching out with both hands.

“Mama makes safe,” his guide answers, taking his hands.

The accent and broken English make Shane realise his guide is probably European. 

“Russia is not safe,” his guide continues.

“Russia,” Shane has only heard bad things about sentinels and guides in Russia.

“You are…American?” his guide asks sounding unsure.

“Canadian,” Shane answers, holding tightly to his guide. He realises they don’t even know each other’s names. “I’m Shane, Shane Hollander.”

“Ilya Rozanov,” he looks at Shane like he can’t quite believe that he’s alive.

Shane wants to hold Ilya’s hands forever. He wonders if he can just take him back to his own bedroom.

“You appear in Russia,” Ilya says quietly, “I do not know this gift.”

Shane’s brow creases. He hasn’t heard of it either. “You needed me.”

“I have best sentinel,” Ilya crows with a wide smile. It fades abruptly though. “He was…bad man.”

“The worst,” Shane agrees. His yawn catches him by surprise. Tiredness swamps him.

“You need sleep,” Ilya says with a sudden hint of the certain authority every guide seems to have naturally. “We meet here again, da?”

“Yes,” Shane says, although something tells him that they won’t be able to meet on the psionic plane often, and he really, really doesn’t know how he had gone all the way to Russia. “When we can.”

Ilya squeezes his hands gently and finally he lets go of Shane.

Shane closes his eyes. He has a guide. Ilya. He is the most wonderful being Shane has ever known.

o-O-o

Ilya has the most beautiful sentinel with many, many freckles and cute pyjamas.

He is thankful his mother has been insistent on his English lessons, on daily practicing when they are alone. He hopes his English wasn’t too awful. He doesn’t think so.

He’s glad that the memory of Shane is what sticks with him from the night and his mama flee Russia.

In the hours of the flight, he is quiet as he wallows in the knowledge of his sentinel. It is like the part of him which was always Shane is suddenly more there; like something else has slotted into place deep in his spirit. He can feel Shane’s hands still tightly holding his. He can remember the warm hug Shane had given him. He focuses on Shane rather than their escape from Russia.

In those same hours, he rarely thinks about the man who’d tried to kidnap him, probably for very bad reasons given how slimy he had felt to Ilya when he’d come in through the window. Ilya feels dirty though because he’d felt the greed that the man had projected; he had known he’d wanted to take Ilya and hurt him in some way, a bad touch way.

Ilya shivers.

Kitty presses closer. She sits by his feet curled up in an impossible space except she’s a cat, a very large cat, but a cat nonetheless and she is demonstrating the way they can simply pour their bodies into any shape and fit. It probably helps that while she’s physically formed, she is still psionic energy rather than an actual cat.

Ilya’s hand is tangled in Zolushka’s fur. She’s sprawled over him like a blanket. It is comforting. Somehow nobody seems to notice either animal.

He is scared.

It is scary.

Running away from Father, distant as he has become, leaving Alexei behind. Alexei…

His heart breaks at the thought of never seeing his older brother. Things have been different between them with Father mostly gone. Alexei is a rock, a steady presence, protective in his own way (he’d made Ilya promise never to have Zolushka save someone’s life in Russia the way she’d saved Alexei’s because someone else might tell the police about Ilya being a guide).

He already misses Alexei.

He’ll miss Sophie and his friends and the ice rink and his team and…

He’ll miss Russia.

But he knows they are not safe, not until they reach America.

He wishes he was back in the blue place holding Shane’s hands. Something tells him it is not going to happen again for a while – that it wasn’t really supposed to happen while they were young at all.

His sentinel is the best.

But maybe he shouldn’t tell anyone about what had happened. It can be a secret between him and his sentinel.

Kitty huffs beside him.

Ilya closes his eyes and allows the motion of the plane to send him to sleep.

o-O-o

Shane sometimes thinks that he only managed to travel to Russia because of the imminent threat to his guide, maybe because Ilya did something unconsciously to pull Shane to him. What Shane knows is that he doesn’t end up physically travelling to where Ilya is no matter how hard he tries to make it happen.

He also knows he scared his parents by disappearing. He lives with them tracking his every move in the six months which follow. They don’t speak to Shane about it and he doesn’t speak to them either. He knows what he and Ilya did is really, really weird and he feels compelled to keep it a secret. A returned Kitty seems to support Shane’s instinctive secrecy. But it means he can’t ask his parents questions, and since he has limited access to the internet, even at school and the Centre, he finds his ability to research what happened thwarted at every turn.

So much so that he just has to let it go.

He and Ilya know they can do it. They’ll probably be able to do it again if they need to – and Shane hopes they don’t need to any time soon because as brilliant as it was to meet Ilya, it had been really really scary.

Life moves on.

His mother decides to homeschool him after there is an issue with his teacher being a racist idiot. Shane registers the racism, feels the shame of being different, being treated differently from others because he is different. His mother sorts it but the consequence is homeschooling.

Homeschooling is not great but Shane can admit that he felt like he never fitted in very well with the other kids at school and at least he can focus on hockey.

Hockey sucks up the rest of his life easily. Practice, training, cross-training, games…

And always in the back of his mind, burrowed into his soul, and deep in his heart is the sense of Ilya.   

o-O-o

Ilya is not really surprised that he and Shane cannot just travel to each other like they did the night of his flight from Russia. Sometimes he thinks it was a dream (a nightmare if he considers the man who had wanted to hurt him), but he remembers Kitty’s fur under his fingers on the plane and knows it happened.

Life is a crazy whirlwind as he and his mama settle into their new country.

Skating is Ilya’s refuge. Nothing else matters when he’s on the ice.

They find themselves moving from one programme to another, one Centre to another, until New York provides them with their first real home.

Their tiny apartment is tiny. Two small bedrooms, a small open living space with a kitchenette, a breakfast bar where they eat, and a two-seater sofa in front of a second-hand television donated by one of the Centre guides as a house-warming present.

The local Russian immigrant community is welcoming. Ilya is not the first guide to seek asylum in the States. He’s happier about the welcome for his mama rather than for himself. But the second day after they arrive, Svetlana Vetrova decides they will be friends and that is that.

It is because of Sveta that he accidentally triggers their gift again at fourteen.

For a moment, Ilya is alone in his bedroom, throwing himself dramatically on the bed having run away from Sveta trying to kiss him at Sergei’s fourteenth birthday party. He is not panicking, Ilya thinks firmly, he is not.

Almost as soon his thought finishes, Shane is suddenly beside his bed, wearing sweats and skates, clutching a hockey stick, and looking bewildered.

“Shane!” Ilya scrambles off the bed to hug his sentinel.

Shane hugs him back. “What’s happened? Are you safe? What’s going on?”

Ilya shakes his head, his throat closing up around any words he might say as English flees from his mind. He hugs Shane tighter.

Shane drops the hockey stick onto the bed and simply holds Ilya.

Their protectors shimmy into view across the room.

“Sorry,” Ilya murmurs finally. “My fault.”

Shane eases back and cups his cheek. “What happened?”

Ilya ignores the heat rising up his neck and flooding his face. “I was at party and my friend tried to kiss me.”

“Oh,” Shane says quietly.

Ilya likes the flicker of jealousy which crosses Shane’s beautiful face.

“I guess that’s going to happen at some point though, right?” Shane says with evident dislike. “We’re not even in the same country and who knows when we’ll actually get to meet and…”

He tugs at Shane’s sweatshirt. “You’re right. We will probably date other people – is normal, da? We are young, we experiment before we online and meet and bond.”

Ilya feels Shane bristling even though it doesn’t show.

“I didn’t kiss her,” Ilya states clearly, “maybe I date her in future, maybe you also date someone in future, but I don’t want my first kiss to be with anyone but you.”

He can already feel the psionic plane reaching out to pull Shane away from him again and he pushes it away. Not yet, not yet…

“OK,” Shane says, blinking rapidly.

Ilya has a moment to register Shane’s word and what he really means before he darts forward hurriedly and kisses his sentinel.

It is clumsy.

For a second their lips are pressed together and their noses are in the wrong place and their eyes are open and shocked…

Ilya’s fingers flutter to Shane’s chin and they gently adjust and tilt their position, their eyes drift shut, and their lips move…

They’re suddenly perfect.

They kiss and kiss and…

Ilya can feel the psionic pull again, more insistent, more forceful.

Their time is up.

They break away, breathing a touch heavy.

Shane brushes a thumb over Ilya’s cheekbone, staring at him like he cannot believe Ilya is real, and…he is just gone.

Kitty bumps her head affectionately against Ilya’s legs and disappears too.

Ilya falls back onto the bed, exhausted, and thumps his head back against his pillow. His lips tingle.

Zolushka settles across him like a warm blanket and he clutches at her fur as he falls asleep. When he wakes up, he realises Shane left his hockey stick behind. His sentinel plays hockey. 

Somehow, in the wake of that revelation and in the wake of kissing his sentinel, life moves on.

He and Sveta do end up dating, off and on, but they both know Ilya is meant for another and it is never anything but friendship and casual between them.   

Hockey sucks up the rest of his life easily. Practice, training, cross-training, games…

And always in the back of his mind, burrowed into his soul, and deep in his heart is the sense of Shane.  

o-O-o

Shane hates early morning drives. He wishes the national practice had been scheduled in Ottawa rather than over in Winnipeg where the new coach currently resides. Most of the team is on the East coast and Shane knows he’s probably not the only player grumbling at the early start.

He is appreciative that his parents are simply supportive; that they don’t complain about the journey and just hustle in the dark to get on the road with the first morning light arrowing through the grey sky.

The familiar sight of them in the front of the car, his Dad driving and his Mom working on her computer in the passenger seat settles Shane down.

He is bundled up in the back of the car, earphones in and watching videos of hockey players on his brand new iPhone via the browser and his club’s internet site. It is weird and strange and he kind of wishes for his clunky laptop instead of the tiny phone screen. He knows his Mom wants him to use the iPhone, to be trendy and current. He sighs a little and squints his eyes at the screen. Maybe he needs glasses?

The car suddenly slides and…

Shane slams a hand onto the door to keep himself straight. His Mom gives a startled cry as his Dad tries to steer into the swerve and…

Shane can hear the approaching car and knows they are too close…

BANG!

The impact is loud and they are in the air and flipping upside down…

Shane tries to brace himself.

He cannot quite catch his breath.

The landing is hard, jolting him hard into his seat, the seatbelt tightening fiercely around him, enough for a second that he thinks he’s going to be cut in two or suffocate and…

Everything is too loud.

The air is filled with dust from the deployed airbags and his vision goes wonky…

The smell of the car and the engine and blood is overwhelming…

His skin itches fiercely and he wants to crawl out of it.

He desperately blinks back the dots filling his vision, fights the impending darkness. He arrows in on his parents.

Two heartbeats.

They’re alive.

Relief floods him and he unwilling loses his fight with consciousness.

The blue plane of psionic energy immediately surrounds him, Kitty’s there beside him and he clutches onto her…

Ilya.

Ilya is suddenly in front of him.

Shane reaches out with a sob and Ilya is holding him.

“Shane, what has happened?” Ilya demands.  

“Car accident,” Shane says. He still feels wrong, like his skin is crawling.

Ilya wraps a comforting psionic shield around him and Shane shivers as it sinks into his very being, calming and soothing away all the feeling of wrongness. “We are online, da?”

“My parents…” Shane swallows hard. “They’re in the car and injured. I have to get back to them!”

Ilya nods, his green eyes serious. “I will anchor you here. Kitty and Zolushka go with you.”

Shane nods. He closes his eyes and when he opens them, he is outside of the car on the grassy verge where the car had landed, his phone still clutched in his hand. Kitty and Zolushka press against him, bolstering his strength. He calls the emergency services.

He is almost finished giving them the details when his nose wrinkles suddenly as he smells gasoline. He hurriedly finishes the call and looks around the car. He sees the dripping liquid with a grimace. The engine is stopped but all he can think about is a potential fire.

He has to get his parents out of the car.

Shane hurries towards the crumpled front of the car and tries to open his mother’s door. For a second, it won’t budge and he closes his eyes. He feels Ilya’s strength answering Shane’s need, flooding him anew. Shane gives a desperate sob and tries again.

It opens.

Shane presses a shaky hand to his mother’s cheek. She’s out cold.

Kitty slides up along one side of him, Zolushka against the other.

Maybe…maybe…he knows he can physically travel distances through the psionic plane. He’s only ever done it in response to Ilya, to help his guide, but…

He reaches psionically for Ilya, tries to convey what he needs to do and feels Ilya’s responding support.

Shane grabs his mother’s shoulder with one hand and buries his fingers in Kitty’s fur with the other. He closes his eyes, holds onto the feeling of Ilya, tries to remember how he feels to travel and shift and…

A beat.

He’s back in the blue, Ilya startled in front of him, Shane’s mother on the floor beside Shane.

A beat.

He’s yanked back to the roadside and the car crash, but his mother is out of the car.

Shane shifts her carefully into his arms and carries her further away from the crash site. He’s grateful he can carry her for all his limbs are trembling, his strength training means he has the muscles to lift her. He grimaces as he takes in her injuries. He wishes he knew more first aid.

He hurries back to the car to repeat the process for his Dad.

It’s both easier and harder the second time.

By the time he sets his Dad down next to his mother, Shane is panting and fighting for consciousness. He’s psionically hurting like he’s badly sprained a muscle from overuse.

He holds on long enough to put his phone down near his Dad. He walks two paces away and crumples to the ground. Kitty and Zolushka surround him, protecting him.

Shane lets go of the physical plane.

Ilya is there in the blue.

They say nothing. They just hold onto each other.

o-O-o

Ilya hates early morning meditation.

Albert, a veteran guide from the New York Centre, insists that he has to attend the Centre for meditation. It sees Ilya trudging through the freezing New York streets until he can huddle in the Centre’s warm and calm atmosphere. His mama attends with him for the first few sessions but she eventually listens to Ilya saying he will be fine on his own.

And he is fine even if meditation is terrible.

Ilya is not meant for stillness. They quickly realise simply sitting and breathing is not for him. Instead, they hit the gym. Ilya finds calm in the rhythm of running, cycling, exercise…he knows that it would be even better if he was on the ice, skating.

The guide training is good though. He learns a lot about his own gifts. He learns he is not a Shaman, he won’t walk the spiritual path, but he is psionically powerfully strong – an Alpha Guide. He practices his empathy and his psionic wielding because he has to be strong enough to partner with Shane. The Centre believes that Ilya and his sentinel already have a proto-bond which means they will simply need to physically be present with each other to complete it now that they are online.

But Ilya and Shane do not try meeting each other physically at all.

Before they’d left the blue after the car accident, they’d mutually agreed that training their gifts was the best way forward before they try physically meeting again. They know they can reach each other if they’re hurt or in danger, both of which are agreed exceptions to the plan. They also agree that when Ilya is trained enough, he can bring them to the blue again so they can talk more. It is a sensible plan, they’d both been in pain for weeks after coming online.

Ilya hates the plan sometimes. It makes him sad in the same way his mother used to feel sad before they came to the States and the Centre helped her. He thinks he may need the same help but he pushes the thought away and focuses instead on learning what he can about being a guide and playing hockey.

He excels on the ice, pushing himself, challenging himself to do more, play better. He is named to the national team but after the joy of making it, they call him into a meeting and tell him he cannot play in the upcoming World Junior Championship. He does not have enough control over his empathic shielding and they cannot risk his sanity by having him play.

It impacts him like a wrecking ball. It feels like another excuse to keep him out of hockey no matter what they claim.

His agent comforts him when Ilya rants at him about the situation. Frank is Albert’s cousin, a good man who sincerely wants Ilya to succeed.

“Health is always going to be a factor in whether you play,” Frank tells him briskly. “You just have another dimension to it than others. If it makes you feel better, Canada had to scratch Hollander, their star player, too.”

Ilya is somewhat mollified by that even if he feels the same disgruntlement at knowing Shane is scratched and probably for the same shit reason as he is. He really needs to tell Shane that he plays hockey, or maybe Shane will find out anyway when his coach tells him America’s star player is missing from the championship. Ilya has known about Shane ever since the left behind hockey stick. They really need to talk about their strategy for playing because the league is terrible about having sentinels and guides play never mind a bonded sentinel and guide.

Wanting to talk to Shane about hockey gives Ilya a renewed focus for his training.

His life rushes forward between hockey and his guide training. His coach actually sends him some old tape of the Canadian team to watch and he plays it over and over, his eyes pinned to Shane.

It takes months but he finally feels confident enough the month before the next World Junior Championship to try and reconnect with his sentinel. They are both playing. In twenty-four days they will see each other in person for the first time without psionic travel being involved.

Before then…

It is night-time. Ilya sits on his bed and closes his eyes. He reaches out and gently navigates to where his proto-bond with Shane exists; the feeling of Shane which is always with him.

He opens his eyes in the blue.

Shane is with him.

He holds out his hand and Shane grasps it. Their protectors pace around them and Ilya knows they are guarding their presence from others, giving them the privacy Ilya craves.

“Hello, my sentinel,” Ilya says lightly.

Shane smiles a touch shyly. “Ilya.” He squeezes Ilya’s hand. “I never properly said thank you for saving my parents the last time.”

“You save me, I help you save your mama and papa,” Ilya shrugs, “we save each other, da? It is what we do.”

Shane smiles a little wider. “Maybe, but I’m going to say thank you anyway.”

“Because you are polite Canadian boy,” Ilya teases.

“You’re an awesome skater to watch,” Shane blurts out. “My coach sent me videos of you.”

“Mine too, of you,” Ilya says. “Is why I bring us here now before the Championship. We must talk.”

Shane nods slowly, and Ilya sees the understanding of why writ large in Shane’s brown eyes. “They won’t want us playing hockey.”

Ilya shakes his head. “Is already why Mama moves us to New York. It is better but still there is a lot of unhappiness that I am guide.”

“My mother changed our Centre like a month ago,” Shane says, grimacing, “they wanted me to go into their sentinel programme. All I’ve ever wanted to do is play hockey.”

“Your parents are supportive?” Ilya checks.

Shane nods. “My dad used to play for McGill and my mum is crazy about hockey.”

“My mama not so much,” Ilya admits, “but she supports me and what I want to do.”

“Did they tell you about the proto-bond?” asks Shane.

Ilya nods.

Shane rubs his forehead with his free hand. “I think we have three options. Option one, we both ignore the proto-bond; we don’t interact, we just play hockey and when we’re both successful, maybe when we are past our entry contracts and have established ourselves, we bond.”

Ilya fails to keep the wince off his face. That is not his preferred option. “And second option?”

“We bond, we’re open that we’re a bonded sentinel and guide, and we hope the league accept us,” Shane says quickly as though if he can get the words out fast enough that they will be possible.

Ilya shakes his head and gives a humourless laugh. “We might as well give up hockey now.”

Shane nods with a frown. “I don’t think it’s a viable option if we want to play.”

“Option three?” Ilya prompts.

“Oh, well, we’d bond but keep it a secret,” Shane says.

There is a layer of regret in his voice which Ilya understands. His own heart aches a little at the idea of keeping Shane secret.

“It’s pretty much the first option, but with a bond,” Shane sighs. “If we can win cups and awards separately…we can prove that we can play without each other, have a career without us both being on the same team – not that it wouldn’t be awesome to play with you in the future because I really would like to do that some day.”

Ilya considers the options. The second one is out. The first and third are variations on a theme. No bond until established, or bond and play secretly.

“If we bond, we can prove that I can play without you and you can play without a guide,” Ilya repeats out loud.

Shane nods. “I think if we bond and don’t keep it a secret, even if they let us play, they’ll expect you to follow me wherever I get drafted.”

Ilya wrinkles his nose but he doesn’t argue. Shane is not wrong. For all the States is progressive about sentinels and guides, in many ways there are still deeply entrenched assumptions about the role of sentinels and guides steeped in years of tradition. Doctor Sandburgh and his sentinel, Ellison, are trying to change things but even Ilya can see it is going to take years.

“A bond would help stabilise our gifts too,” Shane notes. “I think once we’re bonded, we can use our ability to travel to each other physically. We can be together even if we’re apart.”

Ilya cocks his head as he examines his sentinel. “But stabilising gifts is not why you want the bond.”

“I want our bond, I want to be your sentinel fully,” Shane agrees. “I want to be able to tell people, to say we’re bonded. But I want you to have your dream of a hockey career as much as I want to achieve mine.”

“You know I will beat you?” teases Ilya lightly.

Shane smiles, a full wide smile which make Ilya gleeful to see it. “You can try.”

Ilya sobers because their future, their bond, it is a serious discussion. “You have been thinking about our future. Is it what you really want? Hockey and our bond, me?”

“So much,” Shane’s fingers tighten on Ilya’s.

Ilya surges forward and kisses him. It isn’t quite the same in the blue as in the physical plane, but the love and pleasure sing through anyway.

Shane cups his cheek as they part. His eyes holding Ilya’s so softly.

“I love you,” Ilya says.

Shane stares at him for a long moment and just before Ilya believes he won’t say it, he says it. “I love you too.”

For a long moment, they say nothing. Then they start to plan and all the while they hold onto each other.

o-O-o

There is barely any window for Ilya and Shane to meet in Regina.

Shane hurries through the side door and out into the frosty December cold. He follows the tug of his bond around the side of the rink, walking swiftly and with purpose. His breath puffs out in little clouds of fog.

He feels the bubble of Ilya’s psionic shield wrapping around them, protecting them from any other sentinel and guide tracking them including Ilya’s escort which he has because there are security concerns given the presence of the Russian team. Shane knows if the Russians do anything to try and touch one hair on Ilya, Kitty will show up to demonstrate why they shouldn’t even look at his guide and their whole plan will be void.

He turns the corner and sees Ilya waiting for him. He’s slouched up against a wall, an unlit cigarette in hand. Shane hopes that it is a prop for an excuse because his nose is already scrunching at the smell of tobacco.

Ilya straightens at the sight of him.

It is intoxicating to be in the same space.

He’s already watched Ilya practice and it was wonderful, electrifying.

Shane’s senses had filled up with everything Ilya.

Now with Ilya within touching distance, he gluts himself on the sight of him, the scent of him, every little noise he makes, his fingers tremble at the remembered touch of him, his mouth waters as he remembers their one kiss…

And suddenly he doesn’t need to simply remember because Ilya is reaching for him and they’re kissing…

The bond snaps into place less than a second later.

It has them both pulling back from their kiss, startled.

“It’s that easy?” questions Shane, blinking.

Ilya frowns. “Seems so.” His thumb traces Shane’s freckles. “You are very pretty, Shane Hollander.”

Shane blushes. “You too, Ilya Rozanov.”

“Not possible,” Ilya says, “I do not have beautiful freckles.”

He leans in and they kiss again.

The bond hums happily.

Shane’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He’d set an alarm to prompt him to start walking back to the locker room. He still has to get changed and ready for his own practice session.

Ilya’s nose bumps his as he pulls back and gives an unhappy moan. “I wish we had longer.”

“Next time,” Shane says giddily. “I have to get back.”

Ilya kisses him again softly, tenderly. “Go.”

Shane darts in for just one more kiss. He backs away, holding Ilya’s gaze for as long as he can until he has to turn and jog back to the rink and through the labyrinthian corridors to the locker room.

“You OK?” asks Hayes, the back-up goalie.

Shane darts past him to his own locker. “Just needed some air.”

When he gets on the ice and spots Ilya watching, his heart skips and his breath catches. The bond buzzes through him like a jolt of adrenaline.

Shane skates the best he’s ever skated.

He feels like he’s already won the cup, like there is already a gold medal hanging around his neck.

o-O-o

Ilya sits cross-legged on the hotel bed.

He is grateful for the white noise machines which keep the space private from the sentinel watching over Ilya and his mama.

His mama had been the reason why he had not protested the escort. He cannot be everywhere with her while he is practicing and playing. Or watching Shane practice.

That had been glorious.

Shane is an artist on the ice, more so than Ilya in some ways. Ilya does not have the precision of his edges or the fluidity and mobility Shane deploys to his plays, the way he subtly and stealthily directs the game. Ilya is power and raw strength, a wolf on blades. He commands the play and the pace, and his skills are born from his talent and honed by his relentless practice.

He knows his style is an anathema to those who know he is also a guide. A guide is meant to be soft; to submit to their sentinel. Never mind that the North American Prime Guide Doctor Sandburg is neither soft nor submissive to Ellison.

Ilya does not care for others’ opinions. The only opinion which matters is his sentinel, and Shane loves Ilya and how Ilya plays hockey.

He centres himself and reaches for the bond.

A second later, he and Shane are back in the blue.

They cuddle together, sighing in relief as the bond simply strengthens with every breath they take.

“Step one down,” Shane murmurs once they’ve wallowed in the feel of each other for a long while.

“Right,” Ilya says. “Now we practice the physical travel, da? In safe spaces.”

Safe spaces.

That is the difficulty because there are few safe spaces for Ilya and Shane.

Shane’s mother is a sentinel and his father is a guide. Shane has already shared his childhood memory of their panic when he had disappeared from his bedroom. But Shane has his driving license and a small first car. There are a couple of training camps scheduled for him to attend where he has already negotiated a single room.

Ilya knows his own mama is not as sensitive for all her proto-guide gifts have been trained. Svetlana would help but he knows Shane is conflicted about Ilya’s relationship with her. Ilya has assured his sentinel that the ‘with benefits’ part of his friendship with her is long over, but he gets Shane’s territorialism. He thinks the best way to resolve it is for Shane to meet Svetlana, to see her and Ilya together so his sentinel can sense in all ways the truth that they are friends, close friends, but friends only.

“We should sleep,” Shane says. “Game tomorrow. Good luck.”

Ilya nods. “You will not be so nice when we beat you.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Shane shoots back.

He’s grinning as he fades from the blue.

The next day, when Ilya gets on the ice, he sees Shane and the bond buzzes through him like the best jolt of adrenaline.

Ilya skates the best he has ever skated.

He beats his sentinel’s team and lifts the cup with a gold medal hanging around his neck.

o-O-o

Practicing the travel is hard.

The bond helps but it is still exhausting. They have to be careful not to travel when they have hockey practice or a game scheduled.

They have to time it right for when Shane’s parents are out of the house or Shane can park his car somewhere without cameras or Ilya is alone in his New York apartment or using one of his friends’ places for what Ilya pretends is a hook-up.

Still, Shane revels in the moments they get.

They fool around like the teenagers they are because private time together means time to kiss and explore; for Shane to imprint more fully on his guide, his guide to psionically map Shane in ways which make Shane feel so safe and protected. Each exploration is another link in the chain of their bond.

By the time the draft comes round, their bond is strong and they’re confident in their abilities – in Shane’s gift to shift himself and Ilya through the psionic plane to the physical world, and in Ilya’s gift to anchor them and to pull Shane to him if he needs him.

Step two is complete.

o-O-o

Practicing the travel is hard.

Ilya finds it psionically draining despite the bond. They quickly learn using psionic energy is similar to physically training their bodies – it is easy to overuse a muscle, to sprain it or worse tear it.

The latter happens the second time they almost get caught by Shane’s parents. Shane jerks them back to Ilya’s apartment so fast that they both end up with nosebleeds. They’re more careful after that – both with being private and with how they practice their travelling.  

Still, Ilya revels in the moments they get.

He loves being with his sentinel. Holding and kissing him is glorious. They get started on their sexual bond in the privacy of Ilya’s bedroom with his mama gone for the day. Shane imprints touch and taste until Ilya is shivering with the aftershock of a surprise orgasm. He returns the favour, psionically mapping Shane’s pleasure spots until Shane is shaking in his arms. He feels another link settle between them.

By the time the draft comes round, their bond is strong and they’re confident in their abilities – in Shane’s gift to shift himself and Ilya through the psionic plane to the physical world, and in Ilya’s gift to anchor them and to pull Shane to him if he needs him.

Step two is complete.

o-O-o

Shane claps loudly when Ilya is chosen first in the draft.

He’s not really surprised even if he’s a little sour at not getting the accolade of being the top pick. Boston favours Ilya’s style of play, they are an American team who generally favour American players, and Ilya did win a World Junior Championship cup.

He hears the sigh his mother represses, sees the distaste which flashes across her face, even as she joins the applause politely for an acceptable amount of time. He knows she’s disappointed even if she would have hated for him playing against the Raiders.  

He’s pleased when he is second because it is Montreal and her favourite team. He’ll stay in Canada which also suits him more than going to a team in the States.

His mother’s celebration for Shane being picked is fulsome and she only stops clapping momentarily when he gets to his feet. That’s because she hugs him hard, kisses his cheek, and hands him off to his Dad. Then she resumes. His Dad embraces him warmly and claps a hand on Shane’s shoulder as he leaves them to receive his jersey.

Standing next to his guide on the stage for the photos is intoxicating. They are shuffled even closer together with the third pick, Jason Sullivan, on the other side of Ilya. The organisers direct them into a short press conference where they are only expected to answer a few questions.

Shane is thankful that they have a table to sit behind, a cloth hiding their feet from view.

Ilya is asked about his feelings on Boston which he navigates with ease. Shane almost vibrates with anticipation for his question.

The draft press manager points at a balding short man in the front row.

“Shane, how do you feel about you being one of the top draft picks because the league is trying to be more inclusive for minority ethnic groups?”

Shane blinks and tries to keep his face neutral. He feels Ilya’s foot tap his supportively.

“Without wanting to speak to the reasons why Montreal chose me, I would say my statistics speak for themselves. I top the majority of the junior hockey stats – face-off wins, assists, ice coverage, captaincy of our national team, not to mention I’ve been winning cups and awards all through my junior career…” Shane shrugs and continues, careful to keep his tone polite and not defensive. “I think anyone who thinks I was chosen just as a diversity choice isn’t looking at all the facts.”

He breathes out as the questions move on.

Towards the end of the presser, Ilya has to tackle a barbed question about his being a guide. Shane taps his foot supportively against Ilya’s before he answers.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur – the drinks reception where the Montreal GM pretty much admits Shane was chosen in spite of his Asian heritage and not because of it (and the way he also tries to say that the organisation is also happy about the diversity optics in the same breath is a little mindboggling), dinner with his parents where his mother is clearly ecstatic that he’s playing for her favourite team…and all the while Shane is so aware of Ilya and can’t help sneaking glances at him.

Shane is grateful to finally get back to the quiet of his room.

He tries to settle and sleep, but he’s too restless.

He and Ilya had agreed not to risk meeting up in their rooms. Shane’s parents have the connecting suite to his room and Ilya had admitted his mother usually keeps a second keycard to Ilya’s.

Shane gives up on sleep. He shoves the bedcovers back, pulls on his shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt, and heads to the gym. He’s barely on the stationary cycle for five minutes before Ilya joins him.

They don’t speak. They just work out side by side, keeping pace with each other, challenging each other. Finally, Shane concedes the silent competition they’ve got going on and stops the cycle.

They both slump to the floor and Shane accepts the water bottle Ilya pushes at him.

“Big day,” Ilya murmurs as Shane drinks.

Shane hands the water bottle back. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Ilya drinks and gestures with the bottle. “Feel better?”

Shane nods. “I’m still not sure I’ll sleep though.”

“Maybe if we sleep together?” Ilya suggests. “Just sleep.”

Shane is tempted. So very tempted. “My room. We can set an alarm and wake up before my parents do.”

“I’ll go back to my room first so we do not alarm anyone. You pull me to you when I signal?” Ilya says.

Shane nods.

They stagger to their feet and head out of the gym. Ilya takes the elevator back up and Shane takes the stairs.

He’s in the stairwell when Ilya tugs at him but it is not the request to bring Ilya to Shane but rather for Shane to go to Ilya. There’s a hint of panic in the tug which makes Shane frown because the reasons why Ilya might feel panic race through Shane’s head and none of them are good.

Shane focuses and steps forward, sliding his hand easily into Ilya’s as he steps through the psionic place from the stairwell and into Ilya’s room. He freezes at the sight of Ilya’s mother, Irina. She sits in the chair watching them with wide eyes. Shane realises that she must have realised Ilya was missing and wanted an explanation.

Kitty and Zolushka form beside them, a reminder that Shane and Ilya do not walk the world alone.

“Mama,” Ilya says tentatively. “This is Shane. He is my sentinel.”

Shane’s fingers tighten around Ilya’s. “Ma’am.”

Irina stands and talks with Ilya first, soothing his worry, before she turns to Shane and cups his face with steady hands. She kisses his forehead. “It is very good to meet the other half of my son’s soul at last.”

Shane lets out a tiny breath, some of his tension eking away with her assurance. He’s not surprised when she demands an explanation though and Shane doesn’t protest when Ilya shuffles them over to sit on the end of the bed to explain their plan.

Maybe, Shane muses, this is a good thing. Maybe having Ilya’s mama involved will help them. He can already sense Ilya’s relief through their bond. He squeezes Ilya’s hand and leans into his guide. Maybe, maybe they should tell Shane’s parents too.

It’s something to think about.

o-O-o

Ilya feels Shane’s pride through their bond when Ilya is chosen by Boston. His mama hugs him tightly before letting him go to the stage. He keeps his empathic shield up, not wanting to sense anyone’s disappointment, anger, or hatred about his selection.

He claps loudly when Montreal names Shane as their pick. Shane’s mother all but vibrates with joy at the news. Perhaps when she finds out that Ilya is Shane’s guide, she will forgive him for getting picked first over her son.

Standing on a stage next to Shane for pictures is surreal. Shane smiles happily beside him and Ilya can almost forget that the third pick, Sullivan, lurks to his right.

Ilya hates the press conference they are forced to endure. Shane gets a bullshit question about diversity. Ilya gets a bullshit question from the same oily balding man about whether he thinks playing hockey makes him a subpar guide. He feels Shane’s foot tap supportively under the table against his own. It arrests the really caustic comeback which jumped into Ilya’s head. He breathes for a moment before leaning into the microphone to reply.

“No,” Ilya replies firmly, “I am brilliant at both.”

The rest of the press contingent laugh even as oily balding man turns purple.

Ilya is not surprised when the press manager calls a finish to the questions.

The rest of the day disappears in a blur – the drinks reception where the Boston GM tells Ilya that he is a much better fit for them than an Asian Canadian who might actually be the best statistically, dinner with his mama who keeps frowning at him thoughtfully…and all the while Ilya is so aware of Shane, he can’t help sneaking glances at him.

They are so close and so far from being with each other, it’s frustrating.

It is too risky for them to sneak away, to visit each other’s rooms.

Ilya clambers under the covers in his too quiet bedroom and is not surprised when he senses Shane’s restlessness through their bond. He knows instantly when Shane decides to head to the gym.

Ilya follows him.

The cycling is a good workout. It does drive off a lot of the frustration and it makes them physically worn. But Ilya knows that they’re going to struggle to sleep and he coaxes Shane into agreeing to a sleepover.

Ilya wishes they could do more than sleep but he knows Shane will not risk it with his parents next door and he respects the position because he wouldn’t want to have sex with his mama right next door either.

He skips back into his room and stops at the sight of his mama sitting in the chair waiting for him.

Ilya knows she knows as soon as their eyes meet, he doesn’t need to hear her say that she sees how he looks at Shane.

He tugs at Shane immediately to come and knows he is probably not good at hiding his concern (not panic, it is not panic). His sentinel appears, sliding his hand into Ilya’s immediately.

They are a team.

His mama accepts Shane with the fierce love with which she protects Ilya and he is grateful again that she is his mama.

They tell her the plan. They tell her how they will wait until they are free from their entry contracts before revealing their bonded status so they can show that a bonded pair can play professional league hockey and thrive.

Irina agrees to help them and leaves them with a pointed comment that they should get some sleep.

“Maybe we should tell my parents tomorrow too,” Shane murmurs.

Ilya nods and shakes away the nerves which skitter down his spine. “Let’s stay here tonight. Mama won’t walk in on us now.”

Shane agrees. They shower together, washing away the sweat from their earlier workout without ceremony. They tumble into bed still damp and fall asleep for the first time wrapped around each other.

In the morning, they wake early and decide to decamp to Shane’s room with its clean towels. Once they’re dressed, they will introduce Ilya to Shane’s parents.

They swap blowjobs under the warm shower spray, loving each other with the excited urgency of young men and a newly bonded pair. They’re wrapped in towels and lazily kissing in front of the window when there is a sharp rap on the connecting door.

Before either of them can do anything but turn their heads in the direction of the door, it opens and David Hollander steps in…

“DAD!” Shane remonstrates, shifting to stand in front of Ilya fully.

“It’s alright, Shane,” Ilya puts a hand on his shoulder to sooth him.

Shane’s father mutters a wide-eyed apology and hurries out. Shane immediately goes and locks the door before whirling back around with a panicked expression.

“Fuck!” Shane swears, his hands rising up to take hold of his hair in painful grips.

Ilya moves in to comfort him, loosening Shane’s hold on his hair and wrapping him up in a hug. It is fault, he muses; he’d convinced Shane into shower sex and kissing, made them forget to watch the clock…

“This is a nightmare!” Shane mutters into Ilya’s shoulder.

“Then perhaps it is time to wake-up,” Ilya says gently. “We already planned to tell them today.”

“Right,” Shane sighs.

They mutually pull away to finish getting ready, Shane texting his mother briefly. They exchange a brief nod of assurance before Shane unlocks the door and goes into his parents’ suite.

Ilya follows him.

It is a tense moment as Shane introduces Ilya as his guide. He takes Ilya’s hand and Ilya sends a wave of reassurance through their bond when he feels Shane tremble despite the unrelenting glare Yuna Hollander directs at them both.

There is none of the easy acceptance of his own mama. Shane’s parents question their relationship and how long they’ve known of each other. But it seems like their answers help. Shane’s mother finally welcomes Ilya to the family.

This is a good thing, Ilya muses. Having their parents involved will help them. He can already sense Shane’s relief through their bond. He leans into his sentinel and holds on.

o-O-o

“I’m Yuna,” Shane’s mother offers her hand to his guide.

Shane finally lets himself feel relief as Ilya shakes it firmly.

“And I’m David,” Shane’s father smiles apologetically at both of them as he welcomes Ilya, “sorry for walking in earlier.”

Shane waves away the apology as he leads Ilya over to the sofa. “I should have locked the door.”

“Does anyone else know?” asks Yuna.

“Ilya’s mother found out last night,” Shane answers. “She’s supportive of our plan which is why we decided to tell you this morning.”

“What plan?” asks Yuna sharply.

Shane talks her through it, pushing his own anxiety about it to the side.

“You’re going to play separately?” Yuna shakes her head. “How will that even work? You’re bonded and you’d never see each other? Your bond will fade.”

“It won’t,” Shane replies. “We have a gift – a way to travel to each other through the psionic plane. We’ll spend most of our nights together and, if something happens, we can get to each other. We’ve been practicing since we bonded at the championship.”

Yuna and David look at each other and seem to have an entirely silent conversation which has always frustrated Shane.

“And that’s what happened when you were ten?” asks David calmly. “You travelled to Ilya?”

“Yes,” Shane nods. “He was…it was a bad situation. Kitty took care of it.”

Yuna takes a deep breath. “I think we need to talk with your mother, Ilya. I’m not opposed to the plan, and I get why you both want to establish yourselves as players before admitting you’re bonded, but if you want to keep this secret, we can make it easier if we work together.”

Shane frowns. “What do you mean?”

“It won’t be too unusual for the mother of a sentinel player who has been highly involved in advocating for sentinel and guide rights in hockey to befriend the mother of the only known guide player,” Yuna points out. “Our friendship gives you a reason to be friendly with each other, hang out outside of hockey.”

Shane and Ilya look at each other, and Ilya nods. Shane can see their future unfolding ahead of them so clearly.

It is going to be game-changing.

o-O-o

“Is a good idea,” Ilya says cautiously. He likes the thought of being able to be with Shane in the open, to not to have to hide their relationship completely.

Shane squeezes his hand. “Why don’t you call Irina on the hotel phone and I’ll go and get her.”

A few minutes later, Shane disappears from the room leaving Ilya alone with his parents.

Yuna takes a sharp inward breath. Her hand goes to her heart. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to him doing that.”

“Me either,” David murmurs.

“He is safe,” Ilya assures them. He can feel how scared they are despite his own shielding and he wishes he could make it better for them. He realises belatedly how frightening it must have been for them as parents when Shane disappeared as a child from their home.

A second later, Shane returns, his hand holding Ilya’s mama’s.

There is a moment of chaos as everyone introduces themselves.

“So,” Ilya’s mama says, her accent a little thick with nerves, “tell me more about how we can help our boys.”

Yuna smiles.

Ilya feels her instant like for his mama slide through the psionic plane and it calms his own nerves substantially.

“I think this is going to be the beginning of a very beautiful friendship,” Yuna declares brightly.

David leans over to Shane and Ilya. “I think she meant to say terrifying.”

Ilya grins as Shane rolls his eyes at his father, a smile playing about his lips. Love and affection roll through their bond and Ilya can’t help but lean over and kiss his sentinel. He draws back to find their parents looking at them indulgently.

Ilya sits between his mama and his sentinel. He just knows the future is going to game-changing.

fin.

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