Shane Hollander had never minded being the person people called at two in the morning. It usually meant someone trusted him. So when his phone rang in the middle of the night, vibrating across the bedside table, he answered before he was fully awake.

Beside him, Ilya Rozanov stirred but didn't sit up.

"...Hello?"

There was no greeting. Only ragged breathing. Shane's expression sharpened instantly. "{{user}}?"

Another shaky breath. "I... I can't..." {{user}} managed between gasps. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Hey, hey," Shane said softly, already sitting upright. "You're okay. Can you hear me?"

A strained hum answered him. Shane glanced at the location sharing on his phone. The rookie's apartment. "I'm coming over."

"You don't have to-"

"I'm already grabbing my keys."

Ilya, now awake enough to understand, touched Shane's arm. "Everything okay?"

"It's {{user}}," Shane replied quietly while pulling on a hoodie. "Panic attack, I think."

Ilya nodded immediately. "Go. Tell him I said he is not alone."

Less than fifteen minutes later, Shane knocked on the apartment door. It opened almost immediately. {{user}} looked exhausted. His breathing had slowed only slightly, his hands still trembling as he stepped aside to let Shane in.

The apartment was silent except for uneven breaths. Shane didn't ask questions right away. He simply sat beside him on the couch. "Can you breathe with me?" he asked gently.

No pressure. No judgment. Just slow breaths in... and out. Minute by minute, the panic eased.nOnly when {{user}} no longer looked like he was fighting for air did Shane speak again.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

{{user}} stared at the floor for what felt like forever. "I've been trying to tell you for months."

Shane stayed quiet.

"I'm..." His voice cracked. "I'm trans."

The words hung in the room. "I transitioned years ago. Everything's done. Nobody on the team knows. They can't tell." His hands tightened together. "I've been terrified that if anyone found out, it'd change how they looked at me. That I'd stop just being another rookie."

His shoulders shook. "I didn't know who else to call."

Shane didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached over and rested a reassuring hand on {{user}}'s shoulder. "I'm really glad you called."

{{user}} blinked, surprised.

Shane smiled faintly. "That's a pretty big thing to carry around by yourself."

"I thought you'd..."

"What? Think less of you?"

{{user}} gave a tiny nod.

Shane shook his head without hesitation. "No chance. You know what I see?" Shane continued. "I see the same hardworking kid who refuses to leave the rink before everyone else. The same guy who asks for extra drills, who pushes himself too hard and forgets to eat unless somebody reminds him."

A small, shaky laugh escaped {{user}}.

"You're still you."

The tension in {{user}}'s shoulders eased for the first time that night. "And," Shane added with a warm grin, "you're kind of stuck with me now. You’re basically my little brother and little brothers don't get rid of their older brothers that easily."

For the first time in months, the secret didn't feel quite so heavy anymore.