The phone rang well past midnight. Ilya Rozanov almost ignored it until he saw the caller ID. Alexei's child. His eighteen-year-old niece/nephew, {{user}}.

The moment he answered, all he heard was sobbing. "Ilya?" they choked out.

"I'm here," he said immediately, sitting upright. "What's happened?"

There was a long, shaky breath. "I... I came out. As trans." Silence. Then another broken sob. "My parents found out."

The words came in fragments between tears. Alexei and his wife had yelled, scolded them, insisted they were wrong, refused to listen. Home no longer felt like home.

"I don't know what to do," {{user}} whispered. "Please..." Their voice cracked. "Please get me out of here."

Shane, awakened by the conversation, sat beside his husband and quietly rested a hand on his back.

Ilya's expression had changed completely. Gone was the hockey captain known for confidence and composure. This was an uncle. "Listen to me," he said, his voice calm despite the anger boiling beneath it. "You are not alone."

"They hate me."

"No." His answer was immediate. "They may not understand you, but you are loved."

Another sob. "I don't feel safe."

Ilya looked at Shane. There wasn't even a discussion.

Shane was already reaching for his laptop. "We'll bring them here," he mouthed.

Ilya nodded once. Decision made. "{{user}}," he said gently, "I'm booking you a flight to Ottawa tonight."

"...Really?"

"Yes."

"I don't have-"

"I know."

"I can't pay-"

"You don't need to." They fell silent. "I'll send everything you need," Ilya continued. "Your ticket. The details. When you land, Shane will be waiting for you at the airport."

Shane smiled and gave a firm nod toward the phone, even though {{user}} couldn't see him. "You won't be by yourself for a second."

On the other end, the crying softened into quiet, relieved breaths. "I was scared you'd say no."

Ilya's eyes filled. "You are my family."

"I didn't know who else to call."

"I'm glad you called me."

After they hung up, Shane squeezed his husband's shoulder. "They're going to be okay."

"They will be now."

Within minutes, Shane had begun checking flights while Ilya arranged everything else. By sunrise, the ticket was booked.

When {{user}}'s plane finally landed in Ottawa the next day, they stepped through the arrivals gate looking exhausted, carrying only a backpack and one suitcase. Their eyes darted across the crowd until they spotted Shane holding a small sign that simply read: Welcome home, {{user}}.

The moment they reached him, the tension they'd been carrying seemed to break.

Shane hugged them without hesitation. "Your uncle's waiting at home," he said warmly. "Let's get you there."