Chapter Text
Monday, November 7th, 12:00 AM
Yuri Plisetsky sits alone in the living room. The apartment lights are off, the windows are shut. The only light comes from the backdrop of his laptop as he finishes the last of his programming homework. If he were to pull out his headphones, he might hear the slight humming of a dehumidifier, perhaps the sounds of deep breathing from the bedroom down the hall.
But instead, all Yuri Plisetsky hears is the pulsing beat of late-night Spotify playlist.
Eventually, he finishes his programming and pulls out his calculus book. He clicks on the lamp next to the couch and starts to work his way through every integral, writing surprisingly legible considering the hour of the morning.
After he makes it through his math homework, he checks the time.
It’s 1:27, two hours and thirty-three minutes left on his shift.
He closes his calculus book, opens Netflix, and starts to binge House of Cards for the fourth time.
Monday, November 7th, 4:00 AM
JJ Leroy arrives at the apartment at four, on the dot. The door is locked, of course, but his key opens it easily. He sets his bags down in the entryway, hanging said keys on the wall hooks alongside his co-worker's.
The two sets of keys look oddly out of place hanging there together. Yuri’s hang on a black lanyard along with some band keychains and a set of brass knuckles. JJ’s, on the other hand, hang on a bright red lanyard along with a silver maple leaf he got in Vancouver and a small cross.
Had it not been for the job, they probably would’ve killed each other, but JJ likes to believe they’re at least somewhat friends.
Speaking of his coworker, Yuri lays sprawled across the couch staring at his laptop screen, headphones tucked into his ears. He has his hair tied up in a sloppy knot, graphing calculator sticking out of the back pocket of his skinny jeans.
“How many cups of coffee have you had this morning, you fucking sunshine ray?” he asks sourly as he packs up his laptop.
“None,” JJ replies with a smirk. “Just high on endorphins from the morning jog.”
“You went jogging at three in the morning,” Yuri says flatly.
“I don’t have to deal with the commuters.”
Yuri just rolls his eyes. “Well, there’s an extra Monster in the fridge, it’s yours if you want it.”
“Is that thoughtfulness, Yuri Plisetsky?” JJ asks sarcastically. “I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be,” his coworker snaps as he grabs his keys. “You’re still an ass.”
And just like that, Yuri is gone and JJ is alone in the apartment.
He isn’t really alone- technically Dr. Katsuki is asleep in the other room. But the Doctor doesn’t count if he isn’t awake, and thus JJ has three hours to kill before the alarm inevitably goes off at seven.
He starts by opening the curtains, slowly working his way through every window to prepare for the sunrise. He empties the trash in Dr. Katuski’s office and straightens the artwork on the walls. He sweeps the kitchen floors, unloads the dishwasher, and makes a grocery list for Emil. By the time six-thirty rolls around, the apartment is immaculate and JJ starts to brew the morning coffee.
Over the course of the next half hour, the smell of coffee slowly wanders through the apartment. Sunlight starts to illuminate the kitchen as JJ scrambles eggs. At exactly seven, faint music starts to emerge from the bedroom. It lasts for about three minutes before it’s abruptly cut off, a tired-looking Dr. Katsuki emerging from the bedroom moments later.
“Good morning,” JJ says cheerily. “Coffee?”
Dr. Katsuki nods and makes his way toward the kitchen counter. He walks slowly with a bit of a limp in his left leg. When JJ had started his job, his supervisor had explained the injury- apparently, it was a cluster of torn ligaments that they hadn’t quite been able to reattach. They’d been able to fix a lot of things after the plane crash, but the leg hadn’t been one of them.
“How are you feeling?” JJ asks as he hands the Doctor his coffee.
“I feel like they should’ve moved Roundtable to eleven, but nobody listens to me anyway.”
The Doctor’s sarcasm is a bit of a rare occurrence- it tends to appear in the mornings when he’s still tired and his painkillers haven’t quite kicked in yet.
Speaking of painkillers, JJ pulls the small collection of morning pills from the medicine drawer. There are four for Monday mornings- two painkillers, one for blood pressure, and one for anxiety. The Doctor swallows each and every one, wincing as the last tablet slides down the back of his throat.
“How’s Isabella?” he asks.
JJ smiles. He’d started working for the Doctor a little less than a year ago, which was incidentally around the time he’d met Bella in a nightclub downtown. The Doctor had asked about his hangover the next morning, and JJ had spilled everything.
Dr. Katsuki has been his unofficial relationship counselor ever since.
“Bella’s great,” he says. “We went out for dinner a few nights ago, actually. Got Italian on Emil’s recommendation. He knew the owners or something, got me a really nice discount. Bella doesn’t know that though. Eggs?”
The Doctor nods. “You’ve been together a while now, are things getting serious?”
JJ smiles as he hands the Doctor his breakfast.
“Yeah, actually,” he says. “I think I might ask her to marry me. Still trying to think of a plan, though.”
Dr. Katsuki thinks for a moment, slowly eating his scrambled eggs. “Just make it heartfelt and sincere,” he eventually says. “You don’t need to be extravagant, you just have to be you.”
“You’re one to talk,” JJ says with a laugh.
The words are out of his mouth before he has the chance to process them, and the minute he realizes what he’s said he knows he can’t take it back.
The Doctor chokes on his coffee.
“If you’ll excuse me, I should probably take a shower,” he says curtly. “Can’t be late to the roundtable.”
It’s the last thing he says before walking out of the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. JJ watches him go, the lump in his throat growing with every step the Doctor takes.
He shouldn’t have made that comment.
He shouldn’t have mentioned proposing at all.
He should’ve just talked about dinner and changed the subject.
But no, JJ had eluded to The Fiancee, and now he has to stand in the kitchen with his foot in his mouth until the Doctor decides to face him again.
If word gets back to his supervisor, he’ll be out of a job for sure.
He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Leo.
Mentioned Fiancee by accident, Dr. might be a little on edge.
Leo responds in about seven seconds flat.
Yours or his?
JJ rolls his eyes.
I haven’t proposed yet, smartass.
Leo doesn’t respond to that one. JJ guesses he’ll probably get an in-person lecture later, after all, he probably deserves it. But for the time being, JJ just stands in the kitchen eating what’s left of the scrambled eggs.
In a few minutes, the shower will stop running and JJ will help the Doctor put on his brace. He’ll pull a suit from the closet, pick a nice tie to go with it. He’ll double-check the Doctor’s portfolios and make sure his afternoon medication gets into his bag. He’ll probably apologize.
And then it will be nine, and his shift will be over.
JJ checks his watch. He only has an hour and seventeen minutes left to go.
Monday, November 7th, 9:00 AM
Leo pulls up to the apartment building, turns his radio volume down and unlocks the car doors. He waits in silence for a few minutes, brainstorming questions for the nineteen-minute commute. The questions had started as a way to avoid awkward silence, but then Leo had realized the Doctor actually gave solid advice.
So, every day Leo has a new question.
Sometimes it’s relevant- how to handle jury duty, how to apologize to the upstairs neighbor after a noise complaint, how to apologize to your sister for forgetting her anniversary.
Other times, the questions aren’t so relevant after all- he’d asked the Doctor about Beyonce’s new album when it had come out, and they’d had a conversation about world religion that had continued for at least a week back in August.
Though they really only share about thirty-eight minutes of their day, Leo likes to think the Doctor doesn’t mind him.
JJ and the Doctor walk out of the apartment building at 9:02. JJ carries a briefcase and a couple of loose files. He looks like he’s seen a ghost, and the Doctor doesn’t look much better.
JJ opens the passenger door, and the Doctor takes his usual place in the car. His briefcase and files sit in the back seat, along with Leo’s stash of old cds. Once everything is properly situated in the car, Leo shifts back into drive and the commute begins.
“So,” Leo says as they pull out of the apartment parking lot. “What’s on the schedule for today.”
“Roundtable,” the Doctor replies. “They want me to talk about our relationships with India. They want me to say they’re good. I-”
The Doctor pauses for a minute, staring down at his hands.
“I can’t remember if they actually are.”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Leo says gently. “You’re a smart guy, you have lots to remember. Nobody blames you for forgetting something once in a while.”
“India is a pretty big thing,” the Doctor says coldly.
Leo shrugs. “Well, I mean if relationships were terrible, they wouldn't need you to confirm that. It’ll be fine, I’d bet on it.”
The Doctor gives a weak smile. “You’d bet on anything.”
“But I’d win on this one, that’s what’s important.”
The Doctor chuckles a little but doesn’t reply. Instead, he stares silently out the window, clearly thinking but saying nothing. It’s like he’s frozen in some sort of trance, lost somewhere between the real world and his thoughts.
The Doctor is usually quiet, but this quiet is different.
It’s heavy.
It’s dark.
Leo doesn’t like it.
“So I’ve got a question for you,” he says, effectively snapping the Doctor out of his thoughts. “Remember my friend Ji? The film studies major?”
The Doctor nods. “Yes, the one who filmed a music video last summer. Did he end up winning that contest? You never told me.”
Leo laughs. “No, not quite. He did take third, though, he was proud of himself.”
“Good,” the Doctor says. “What’s he up to now?”
“Well,” Leo says. “He’s trying to do a biopic- like a short piece on somebody’s life story. I keep telling him to do Shakira, but he seems dead set on doing David Barstow. Which like, Barstow is interesting but he’s not exactly glamourous.”
“Barstow,” The Doctor says, thinking for a minute or so. “He has four Pulitzers, right? I think we met him once.”
He thinks for a minute more before recognition lights up his face. “Right. Barstow. He’s at Berkely now- Victor and I got lunch with him back after his Walmart story broke. He’s a good journalist, Ji should definitely do him.”
“That… was admittedly not the response I expected,” Leo said. “Honestly I thought you’d back me on Shakira.”
The Doctor stares at him blankly. “Who’s Shakira?”
“Who’s Shakira?” Leo echoes. “You don’t- You know what, I’m not surprised. Grab the cd case in the back seat, find Shakira’s Oral Fixation album, it should be alphabetized.”
The Doctor reaches into the back seat, and Leo waits, focussing on the road.
He tries to think about Shakira, and exposing the Doctor to “Hips Don’t Lie”.
Instead, he can’t stop thinking about David Barstow.
He can’t shake the fact that the Doctor knew him.
But more than that, he can’t shake the fact that in a mundane conversation about some journalist Ji was curious about, the Doctor just so happened to mention The Fiancee.
He mentioned him by name, quickly and effortlessly, and it hadn’t even fazed him.
Victor and I got lunch with him .
It was so insignificant, and yet so earth-shattering at the same time.
But, Leo realizes, the morning commute is not the time to unpack Victor Nikiforov.
The morning commute is for Shakira.
Monday, November 7th, 9:24 AM
Otabek watches as Leo pulls up to the curb. Whatever he’s listening to, he’s certainly into it. Dr. Katsuki is watching him, clearly amused by the dancing, but not quite moved enough to participate.
Leo parks, turns the music down, and gives Otabek a quick wave.
It isn’t a friendly wave.
It’s a concerned “come talk to me” wave.
Otabek knows it well.
He opens Leo’s back door and pulls out Dr. Katsuki’s bags. He lets the Doctor himself out of the car and makes his way to the open driver’s side window.
“Hey Beks,” Leo says softly. “Just so you know, JJ accidentally mentioned The Fiancee this morning. And the Doctor kind of mentioned him too. He didn’t seem shaken up about it, but it happened.”
Otabek nods. “I’ll keep an eye on it,” he says.
Leo smiles. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Otabek says. “I’ll see you at four.”
Otabek makes his way back to the curb, where Dr. Katsuki waits. He doesn’t look any different than usual- his hair is its usual shade of disheveled, his square glasses sitting perfectly on his nose. His suit covers the leg brace, but the limp is still slightly present.
“Good morning, Dr. Katsuki,” Otabek says as they make their way into the building. “Ready for Roundtable?”
Dr. Katsuki nods. “It’s India, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Well, Roundtable should get out around eleven-thirty, Mila will bring your lunch and debrief you for your afternoon meetings. You have three consults today, but one of them is a representative from Yale.”
Dr. Katsuki looks confused. “What does Yale want?”
Otabek shrugs. “Probably a guest lecture, a workshop, or something similar. Mila will know better than me.”
Dr. Katsuki just laughs. “Please, Otabek. You and I both know I’m not qualified to lecture at Yale.”
Otabek doesn’t respond.
Dr. Katsuki, after all, is incredibly qualified for Yale. He’s working as a government consultant on foreign affairs, meeting regularly to discuss global politics and policy. He’s renowned as one of the best in his field, and while Dr. Katsuki doesn’t believe it, Yale would be incredibly lucky to have him.
But no matter what Otabek says on the matter, Dr. Katsuki will never quite believe him.
So instead, Otabek follows Dr. Katsuki on the usual route to the conference room. They stop at the Doctor’s office, which is basically an excuse for him to make another cup of coffee. Otabek uses the time to sort through the paperwork in the Doctor’s briefcase and pull the files marked for Roundtable.
They make it to the conference room with six minutes to spare.
Otabek hands Dr. Katuski the Roundtable paperwork and watches as he glances it over.
“Thank you,” the Doctor says as he walks into the conference room.
Otabek finds his usual bench and waits.
Monday, November 7th, 11:27 AM
“Remind me why this is important again,” Mila says into her earpiece as she walks up the stairs and towards the conference room. “I know you want a consultation, but I just don’t see the urgency here.”
Technically, the politician on the other line has a response.
Mila just sighs.
“Listen. I work for an incredibly busy man. And I’m sorry that you want his stamp of approval on your policy, but he doesn’t have an opening until next month, you should have planned- no, I’m not subject to bribery, don’t try.”
She hangs up.
Technically, it isn’t professional.
If Mila Babicheva were professional, she wouldn’t have gotten the job.
Otabek waves at her as she approaches the conference room, and she smiles back.
“What’s going on in there?” she asks.
Otabek shrugs. “India, I think. Dr. Katsuki seemed confident.”
“He should be,” Mila replies. “He wrote a pretty major paper on India back in the day, I believe.”
For a while, they wait in silence. Mila drinks her tea. Otabek is scrolling through Spotify as he often does, pulling tracks for whatever new playlist he’s working on now. Last week, it was a metal mix for Yuri, but judging by the artists he’s looking at today, Mila guesses he’s changed gears.
Eventually, the doors of the conference room open. Mila notes each of the Roundtable members as they pass- few of them are missing today, but that can easily be explained by flu season or Monday morning hangovers.
Dr. Katsuki walks out alone, a stack of papers in hand, and a pen shoved behind his ear. He locks eyes with Mila quickly and smiles.
“New earrings?” he asks.
“No,” Mila replies. “Just old earrings I haven’t worn for a while. Walk with me, we don’t have long before your meetings start and lunch is the most important meal of the day.”
“I think that’s breakfast,” Otabek says.
“Did I ask you, Altin?”
Dr. Katsuki laughs, and they make their way up to his office.
Technically, Mila and Otabek are both Dr. Katsuki’s PAs. That said, Mila handles most of the meetings and appointments. She answers the phone, makes the notes, and ensures that everyone who gets an appointment with the marvelous Dr. Yuuri Katsuki deserves an appointment with the marvelous Dr. Yuuri Katsuki.
Otabek carries the briefcases, escorts him between meetings, and scares any small children that might attempt to harass him.
Otabek, Mila figures, is probably too short to intimidate any actual adults attempting to harass Dr. Katsuki, but the building has security for that.
“So,” Mila says as they reach the office. “Your first appointment is an up and coming law student who just wants your advice. Apparently, you’re like his idol or something, he asked really nicely and cleared the background checks, so I figured why not. His file should be in your briefcase. Second, you’ve got a senator looking for advice on a bill proposal. It’s pretty straight forward. Third is Yale, they want you on a guest lecture series.”
Otabek gives Dr. Katsuki a look.
Dr. Katsuki sighs. “I suppose you were right, though I’m not sure how.”
“Anyways,” Mila says. “Talk to the man from Yale, see if it’s something you’re interested in. If it is, I can get your schedule cleared and make it happen. It sounded like a promising gig.”
“I’ll think about it,” Dr. Katsuki says.
He doesn’t mean it.
Yale isn’t the first university to ask, after all. Last Winter it was Harvard, Duke came before that. Dr. Katsuki always offers to think about it, and in the end, he always says no.
Mila used to wonder why.
She doesn’t anymore.
No, if Mila Babicheva spent her time wondering about the Doctor’s psyche, she wouldn’t have a job.
She checks the clock.
There are twenty-three minutes until Dr. Katsuki’s first meeting. It’s on the second floor, room 237.
It’s Dr. Katsuki’s favorite meeting room, probably because it has the biggest windows.
They can make it there in eight minutes if the elevator cooperates.
Mila takes a deep breath and sips her tea.
“So, Doctor,” Otabek says. “What was Leo listening to this morning? He seemed excited about it.”
Dr. Katsuki thinks for a minute. “A Latin artist- Shakira I think. She has very honest hips.”
Mila chokes on her tea.
Monday, November 7th, 3:59 PM
Leo pulls into his parking spot right on time and it’s only a matter of minutes before Otabek appears with the Doctor. He looks normal- whatever thoughts were on his mind this morning seem to be gone. Otabek sets the files in the back seat, the Doctor takes shotgun, and they’re back on their regular nineteen-minute commute.
“How was your day?” Leo asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.
The Doctor just shrugs. “Fairly regular. We talked about India. I met with a law student who had more energy than JJ in the mornings. And a man from Yale came by- they want me to do a lecture series.”
“You doing it?”
The Doctor shakes his head.
Leo isn’t surprised.
“So,” he says, looking to change the topic. “Hypothetically, if you could give any one species of animal the ability to talk, what one would you choose?”
“Dogs,” the Doctor says without missing a beat.
“Really?” Leo counters. “Not, like, lions or something?”
The Doctor just laughs. “How many times would you get to talk to a lion, Leo?”
“At the zoo?”
“But dog parks .”
Someday, Leo thinks, he’ll take the Doctor to a dog park. He might have to get Emil to help him, but knowing Emil, that won’t be a problem.
After a bit more dog conversation and a minor debate about the superior dog breed. Leo pulls up to the Doctor's apartment building. Emil is waiting for them, smiling as always.
“Dr. Katsuki!” he exclaims as the Doctor opens the car door. “Welcome home! I’m making that rice salad you like for dinner, and I got chocolate ice cream at the store!”
Emil, Leo thinks, is probably more dog than person.
Once the Doctor disappears into the apartment complex, Leo drives home.
This commute takes about half an hour, but he turns on the Shakira disc from the morning, and the time flies. Soon enough, he’s pulling into his apartment complex, and walking up the stairs to the third floor.
His apartment is exactly how he left it, minus the noises from the upstairs neighbors. He sets his keys on the kitchen counter, flips the lights on, and scrolls through the notifications on his phone.
Mila is not happy with Leo’s choice in music and decided to tell the group chat all about it.
JJ, apparently, is an ardent defender of Shakira.
Yuri, on the other hand, is ardently not.
Leo signs and makes his way into the living room.
He almost drops his phone.
The living room is not exactly how he left it.
No, there’s a man sitting on his sofa, and well he’s technically a stranger, Leo knows exactly who he is. He looks slightly different, of course, it’s been years since he was last photographed. But between the hair and the eyes, Leo doesn’t have any doubts.
“You’re… dead,” he manages to stammer.
“Clearly,” Victor Nikiforov, Forbidden Fiancee, Living Legend of Journalism says dryly. “We should talk.”