Chapter 3
Ethan wants to say why not, but he's not that stupid.
He knows why not.
He can think of about a thousand reasons.
"But nobody knows at all?" Ethan says.
"Nobody.
That seems...
I mean that seems like an insane thing to keep between the two of you, for such a long time.
Especially if you both feel— the way you obviously feel."
"We have been careful, we— have been scared, if anybody ever knew.
Our careers, our lives, I am immigrant, you know, I am here in America because of hockey but I could not go back to Ukraine if wrong people knew."
Ethan can't believe he's sitting here being forced to feel sorry for Dmitri Volkov, but every word out of his mouth is making the guy more and more of a human being to him, absolutely against his will.
This whole thing is a lot bigger than some frankly mind-boggling gossip he can't wait to tell his wife.
"That's pretty heavy stuff."
"Yes," Volkov says, and his head is bowed over his hands like he's feeling it physically.
"Yes, heavy."
"So nobody knows.
Really"
Nobody.
And right now I am so angry at myself for this.
And him.
I am angry, we didn't think about, I never— I wasn't supposed to feel like this, it wasn't supposed to be like this.
But I am fucking terrified, here.
And now you know, and now I am in position where I need to beg you to tell me what is happening, because the man I— this person, I care about so much, I have no right to be here, I have no reason, no reason anybody knows about, to be here.
I am not boyfriend, family, I am some guy he is supposed to hate, some fucking marketing stunt, rivals on the ice.
What does any of that fucking matter?"
There's too much in that whole little speech to unravel properly, but Ethan sticks to what he knows for sure:
"You don't have to beg for anything.
I'm not going to pretend I understand what's going on here, but if this is the situation, then so be it.
I can't— I mean, his parents are the ones who get to make, like, medical decisions about him and all that, but I'll run interference when they get here.
I'll make sure you know what's going on, until he wakes up and can tell you himself."
Volkov looks at him, heartbreakingly hopeful.
"He will wake up, yes?
The doctors, they say we wait, but— do they seem like they think he will be fine, or— or— how did they say it?"
"They do this annoying thing where they refuse to say anything definitive.
Like, they say we have every reason to hope he'll wake up soon, but since they can't explain exactly why he's still unconscious, they don't have any firm guesses as to when that will be."
"So they know nothing and Callahan is just lying there and everybody in this building is useless and we just don't get to know."
"Kinda."
"Fuck."
"Yeah, fuck."
And that's how Ethan Cole ends up spending most of the day with Dmitri Volkov.
They swap out sitting by Derek's bedside for a while, and Ethan tells him when Mira and Leon finally get on the plane after hours of frustrating delays, and whenever the doctor speaks to Ethan, Ethan relays the information back to Volkov, who looks more and more gaunt and devastated and broken every time Ethan tells him there's nothing new.
Volkov vacillates between being taciturn and dour, and then suddenly a burst of energy will overtake him and he'll want to talk, he'll want to ask Ethan the same questions over and over, about the doctors and Derek's condition, but also other stuff— he grills Ethan on what exactly he'd known, or been able to guess, about Derek's secret Seattle girl, over all these years.
They talk about the sneaking around, the version of events that Ethan had constructed, contrasted with the truth of the whole thing.
He can't believe he never put it together, that Derek vanished to go be with Violet not only when they were playing in Seattle, but when Seattle was in Vancouver, too.
He gets the sense that Volkov is unburdening himself of a lot of things he's been wanting to say for a long time.
It makes him feel weirdly soft and tender towards this man for whom he's never felt anything but professional animosity.
Derek's obviously so important to the guy, and he's never, not once, been able to share the reality of that with anybody.
"He will be angry, though," Volkov says at one point.
"I am telling you things I shouldn't.
Have always promised him I would tell no one."
"I'm never going to say a word," Ethan promises.
"I swear.
And I'll promise Derek the same thing.
Hell, I won't even tell my wife if you guys ask me not to."
"I think will probably be good for Derek, for you to know.
But I am— I feel very guilty that I tell you, it was his choice to make."
"Hey," Ethan says.
They're sitting together again in the alcove, this time in chairs right next to each other.
He leans over and jostles his shoulder into Volkov's.
"Extreme circumstances.
He'll understand."
"I hope so."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'll defend you," Ethan says.
"If he's mad, I mean.
Which I don't think he will be.
But if he is, I'll tell him you deserve the benefit of the doubt."
There's a long pause, before Volkov speaks again, a sort of forced lightness to his words.
"Is annoying, how nice of a guy you are.
You and Derek, perfect polite boys."
"If it weren't for the fact that I'm straight, I could have swept him off his feet, is that what you're saying?"
"Not funny."
"A little funny."
"I don't share."
"You're going to have to," Ethan says, switching to serious on a dime.
"Not like that, obviously, but— he's my best friend.
I fucking care about him.
I'd do anything for him.
And I think that actually puts us on the same team, for once.
Yeah?"
Volkov snorts, tilts his head back so it thunks against the wall.
"For him, yes, I will endure such indignities."
"Big words, Volkov.
Impressive"
"Get new material, seriously, all you English speaking meatheads with the same damn thing again and again.
Yes, I have smaller vocabulary in second language, congratulations on your big discovery."
Ethan laughs, he can't help it.
Volkov's funny.
Almost, like, charming, actually.
"Noted.
I'll spin up some more creative shit for next time we're on the ice."
"Best if you keep your mouth shut and focus really hard on not embarrassing yourself during games, I think.
You will have to play rest of season without Callahan, so you're basically fucked."
This, Ethan reflects morosely, is probably true.
But he'll save those feelings of disappointment for once he knows Derek is okay.