Archive of Our Own

Paint yourself a picture

Of what you wish you looked like

Things really kicked off for Yuri when the season ended. Of course, the season doesn't ever really end, it just rolls right on into the next like a snowball down an endless mountain. Truth be told, the season had especially continued for him this year with his ballet practices overtaking what would have otherwise been idle off time.

Still, when the summer heat rolled over Russia the warmth slapped him harder than reality. He was a champion now, after all, and champions have a name to uphold. A title to defend, no longer will he be fighting to be taken seriously, a young upstart from the junior league who thinks too highly of himself. No, now he has to fight to maintain his title, show everyone it wasn't dumb luck, he has to prove he's a champion.

If he'd learned anything at all in the past year, it was that greatness and consistency were not even in the same stratosphere. All he has to do is look at Viktor to remind himself of that.

Because one of the greatest skaters to have ever lived found dullness in success. His boredom drove him all the way to Japan, and the subsequent love affair that rekindled his lust for life was the only thing that brought him back to the ice. And Yuri… well Yuri is quite frankly terrified of falling out of love with skating, if history really does that horrifying march of repetition.

Regardless of the fear in his throat, July comes quickly and with it are the hottest temperatures on record in over a decade. It's suffocating in his room; the fan blows the same congested air and only really causes a light fluttering sound of disrupted papers. It's irritating him, the sound, the hot air, not to mention all the schoolwork he's attempting to finish.

Most kids love summertime, between vacations and running free from the responsibilities of school, it's a time that they cherish. Yuri's experience is vastly different; his school year runs through the spring and summer months, the heat makes him tired and his muscles seem to melt inside of him, not to mention that summer means he's alone. So unbelievably alone.

He hears the clatter of dishes in the kitchen, stalling his essay writing (well ignoring but who's counting?). He climbs out of his bed and walks into the kitchen where the familiar sight of his grandpa is warped from its usual strength. Instead, Yuri is greeted with the sight of his shaking hands and a grimace that searches for an easier way to kneel.

"I've got it." Yuri is quick to pick up the fallen utensils, "Sit down, I'll finish making your tea for you."

"I'm alright, Yurachka, you worry too much." Nikolai assures him.

"It's just tea, you've got your sugar in it, da?" He moves the kettle off the counter and reaches into the cupboard for Nikolai's supplements.

Nikolai concedes (a symptom of his age that Yuri would never admit stings) and takes his seat at the table. "You're finalizing your new routines this week, right?"

"Yeah, they're even better than last year's." Yuri agrees deciding to pour himself a mug. Even with the sweltering heat, tea with grandpa is non-negotiable. There's something about the whole affair that feels like a living memory, and it's a good memory at that. "Are you sure you don't want kompot instead? It might be more refreshing."

"No, the tea is made, I'll have the tea." Nikolai assures him. Yuri offers a half smile as he takes up the opposite seat.

The steam nearly makes heatwaves as it wafts up from the mug but neither man seems bothered by that.

"So, Yurachka, tell me about your programs. Are you pleased with your progress?" Nikolai presents the question casually.

"The short program is better than last year's, I'm not sure how I feel about the free skate. Viktor says it's going to present a new side of me, but I'm not sure what that means." Yuri sips his tea tentatively.

"It means you're growing, as you should. There's more for you to explore in your career."

"Maybe, but I don't know. I think Viktor's just saying that because he's making his comeback this season. He wants more competition so he's building it all up to be something it's not."

"Then build it into something real." Nikolai says definitively. "Give that gray haired menace a run for his money."

Yuri chuckles, "I'll try."

"No, you'll do it. I know you will." Nikolai says it with a smile but Yuri feels his throat close up at the idea.

"Thanks, but my focus is on school right now. I don't understand why we're going over the same historical period for the fifth time."

Nikolai chuckles, "History isn't so bad, and you're living in it, believe it or not."

"Sure, old man." Yuri laughs.

"Have you heard from your mother recently?"

"No, have you?"

"I have." Nikolai tells him, "She sent over more money this month, I was wondering if you had anything to do with that?"

Yuri shakes his head, "I haven't heard from her in… Not since March."

"Strange… You should call her sometime." Nikolai instructs.

Yuri swallows a comment about how she should be the one reaching out to him. "What did she tell you?"

"Oh, nothing important. Just that she's alright and not to worry."

"Hm." Yuri isn't certain he believes his grandfather. As soon as that thought surfaces, however, he shoves it back into the recesses of his mind. Not everyone in the world is trying to hurt him, after all. He reaches for the cross around his neck and fidgets with it as Nikolai changes the subject once again. Their conversation remains light, even with the residual tension that Yuri's mother always brings with her.

Looking sideways at the clock (and promptly realizing he's cutting it close to practice), Yuri stands from the table and starts washing the dishes. "I'll be home late tonight, don't stay up for me. You have that doctor's appointment early tomorrow and I'll be mad if we have to reschedule."

"You worry too much for such a young person. You'll be grown up before you know it. I'll be fine, you on the other hand, will be late if you linger any longer." Nikolai attempts to take over the dishes, but his hands shake so much the plates rattle.

"I have enough time to do my chores. Yakov can shove it." Nikolai gives Yuri a firm look but says nothing as his grandson finishes cleaning the kitchen.

Yuri submits his homework and throws his things together for practice, it's going to be either a very long day or not long enough.

"Yurachka, when should I expect you home?" Nikolai asks.

"I told you it'll be late, don't stay up for me."

"You… right…" Nikolai reaches forward and kisses Yuri's forehead, "Have fun."

"Take care of yourself." Yuri once again gives his grandfather a smile before exiting the apartment.

The old soviet building has an incredible ability to hold onto heat in the summer and a total inability to retain any of that heat for the wintertime. Now, as the thick haze of dust and history cloak Yuri's frame, he feels like he might drown in it. He shakes his head, pops in his earbuds, and starts off towards the metro station.

Grandpa finally retired (read: had been forced into retirement) and had moved to Saint Petersburg not long after. Yuri chose to move out of the skating dorms, even if it makes his life all the more challenging. Between the longer commute, having arguably less privacy, and of course his new part time job of nursing Nikolai; the move was probably the single dumbest thing he'd done all year (so far anyway).

Still, Yuri doesn't regret it, at least not yet. He reserves the right to bitch about it later, obviously.

The walk to the station is uneventful, even with the addition of texting Otabek and receiving notifications about other skaters' routines. Instagram seems to be obsessing over Iglesias's short program leak, Yuri only watches the video three times thanks for asking…

By the time he arrives to the rink he's already exhausted, he wants the day to be over even with the knowledge that it will be longer than usual. It's a conditioning day and the first full team day of the season; there's an unfathomable hum of excitement in the locker room.

Yuri elects to ignore it, continuing to listen to music and attempting to quell the sudden burst of nervous energy in his chest.

"Yurio! How are you today?" Viktor cranes his head into Yuri's line of sight.

"Fine." Yuri brushes him off, turning instead towards his locker.

"It's been so long since we've seen each other! You must tell me how you've been? How's school? Have you been practicing your routines?" Viktor continues to pester him with questions.

"It's fine, I'm fine, I said it's all fine." Yuri rolls his eyes.

"Aw, I'm sure there's more to it than that, Yurio. It's been almost a month since we saw you last, after all." Yuuri approaches beside his husband. "But you don't have to tell us everything now, maybe we can grab lunch some time."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Great! I'm excited to see your new programs."

"You're telling me your husband didn't get them approved by you?" Yuri scoffs.

"Well, I'm sure it'll come to life differently when you perform it." Yuuri rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle.

"Of course, it will be." Yuri throws himself onto the bench and begins lacing up his skates.

"Someone's in a mood. Are you alright, Yurio?" Viktor takes a seat next to his friend.

Yuri says nothing, he wonders why his skates feel tighter than he remembers. He tries to convince himself he's gained weight, but who gains weight in their feet? God, he can't be hitting a growth spurt now. Then he'd have to break in new skates, which is an absolute nightmare in and of itself, but that also means the rest of his body could start… changing. Which he really, really doesn't need.

"Oh Yurio." Viktor waves his hand in front of Yuri's face.

"What? What is it?"

"Yakov says the rink is open, let's go." Viktor has a hand on his shoulder and Yuuri waits by the door.

Yuri shakes himself out of his stupor and wordlessly joins the older two men.

"Hey, Yurio, you know you can talk to us if something's on your mind. Okay?" Yuuri says as soon as Yuri reaches him.

"Yeah okay, sure." Yuri rolls his eyes.

Katusdon gives him a genuine smile, "We're always here for you."

Yuri doesn't respond, instead he takes to the ice. The ever-frustrated shouts of Yakov melt into the rhythmic sounds of skaters whipping around the rink. Lilia sits in the stands, ipad in hand as she maps out routines and private lesson schedules. At least here, things feel right, like a perfectly organized library – everything is in its place.

After his first few jumps land, Yuri allows himself to relax and the love he's terrified to lose washes over him in droves. He's reassured, at least for the time being, that skating remains as his great equalizer. When life is a steaming shit storm, skating makes it all worthwhile.

Even when he catches Yuuri and Viktor sending him smiles he can earnestly return them. Because this place is home, as much of a home as anywhere on earth.

"Alright let's start with our short programs. Georgi, you're up." Yakov calls the skaters back.

"Your step sequences are looking good, Yurio, I'm glad to see it. Your camel spins were also looking particularly clean." Viktor tells him as they all take up their seats on the bleachers.

"You pay so much attention to me and Yuuri I'm surprised you're even competing. Are you sure you don't want to retire again?" Yuri pulls out his phone.

"Are you worried about me? That's so cute."

"It's not cute." Yuri snips.

"Maybe he's just worried about losing to you, love." Yuuri puts a hand on Viktor's knee.

"Is that true!? Are you worried about competing against me?!" Yuri chooses to ignore Viktor's outburst and instead immerses himself in texting Otabek. His favorite skater is admittedly slow to respond, but he'll have to be forgiven. This upcoming season has everyone on their toes; with Viktor returning to the sport things are going to be very interesting.

That and Otabek is bound and determined to meet him at the Grand Prix final again. Which is enough motivation on its own, even disregarding the whole… Title defending thing.

Europeans had been an easy win after the Grand Prix, and Worlds had snuck up on every skater. Yuri was hell-bent on winning that gold medal and he did which shocked even him at the time. Sometimes he remembers that he had a grand slam in his first season at the senior level and nearly chokes at the idea.

Rolling back his shoulders, Yuri tunes back into the world around him. Yuuri's routines are pretty good, they could even be really good with additional training. Viktor's just as impressive as ever, his pieces are already immaculate and he has a spark in his eye, a fire that Yuri hasn't ever seen before.

When it's finally his turn to take the ice, Yuri feels his confidence bolster. He loves to skate, he loves to perform and compete; there's nothing in the world better than this feeling. Even with his skates suddenly half a size too small and his nerves are a bundle in his chest, this is the best thing in the world.

He skates until Lilia packs her things and demands he follow for his private lessons. The ballet studio is just as welcoming as the arena, the familiar waxy floors and rattling AC are reminders of hard work; something he's yet to master, something to work towards.

That night, Yuri feels good, it seems that the city has also taken a sigh of relief. The cool but still warm breeze blows past him on his walk home, his spirits lift a little with each step. He enjoyed practicing, had fun even, dance classes included. What an accomplishment that was.

As Yuri enters his apartment his peace is interrupted. The light is on in the living room, Yuri braces himself to scold his grandfather as he throws off his shoes. Then he hears a rattling sound coupled with a string of muffled curses and he quickens his pace.

Nikolai isn't in the living room, only Potya sits by the window idly licking her paws totally unbothered by the commotion. Grandfather's bedroom is empty too and Yuri darts across the apartment into the bathroom. There he finds his grandpa kneeling on the ground painstakingly gathering the spilled contents of a pill bottle.

"Ah, Yurachka, I didn't mean to wake you." He says.

"It's fine, grandpa." Yuri takes the pill bottle from Nikolai's hand. "I'll clean this up, don't worry about it."

"I was looking for my nighttime pills, I didn't realize the bottle was opened."

"I understand." Yuri makes quick work of gathering the last of the medication and pops the lid back on. "See? All fixed."

Nikolai gives him a sheepish smile, "Thank you."

Yuri then takes his grandfather's arm and helps him to stand up. The older man leans on him heavily, but Yuri manages to guide him into the living room. Potya's ears perk up as they enter but she doesn't move as her master seats Nikolai onto the sofa.

"I'll get you your pills, I think we still have some uzvar too. Would you like that?" Yuri asks.

Nikolai's gaze remains unfocused, but he nods unconsciously. Yuri sets to work bringing his grandpa his pills and drink. Then he closes the curtains in the living room as he talks about his day. He gives as many details as he can remember until he notices the old man dozing off. Yuri guides Nikolai to bed and kisses his forehead before finally returning to the kitchen to make himself dinner.

It's late and he's tired, but he cleans the kitchen before returning to his bedroom. He considers going right to bed, but he's pretty sure his English assignment is due in the morning. Picking up his laptop, Yuri sets to work on the last of his recent assignments. Somewhere between midnight and two AM, Potya finally joins him and curls into the crook of his arm.

Finally, he sets his laptop aside and pulls up his blankets. Just before he falls asleep, he grabs his phone and sets an alarm an hour before Nikolai's appointment. He's a bit more awake now, and he begins to dread the day ahead of him.

Maybe then they just might

Feel an ounce of your pain

He hasn't landed a quad sal in over a week and it's really starting to irritate him. Not to mention that he can feel his bones practically pulsing inside of his body. Who ever decided on the name growing pains seemed to leave out a key detail. That detail being 'pain' doesn't begin to cover how utterly excruciating it is. His center of gravity is fucked and his bones are burning.

So, he stands on the ice watching in resigned frustration as Yuuri and Viktor skate circles around each other, laughing all the while. The chill of the rink never quite reaches his legs, and the soreness starts to creep into his abs from all the extra work they're having to do.

Yuri skates to the nearby wall, bracing himself so he can catch his breath and maybe alleviate some of the pressure on his knees. To add insult to injury, his new skates still don't feel right on his feet and he's almost definitely broken another blister.

"That was good footwork, Yurio, but I think you know your jumps are falling behind." Viktor says with an annoyingly perky smile.

"Yeah, I'm aware, idiot." Yuri shifts his weight between his aching feet.

"Is something wrong, Yurio?" Katsudon asks, coming to a stop at the wall just beside him.

"I'm fine."

"Really? You look like you're not very comfortable, is it the new skates?" Viktor wraps his arms around Yuuri's waist. Yuri hates it when they tag team him like this, they both seem to bolster each other's confidence. Which, in the case of Yuuri isn't too offensive, Viktor on the other hand quickly becomes unbearably obnoxious.

"It's just growing pains, alright?" Yuri groans, finally releasing his grip on the banister now that his stability returned.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Yuuri's eyes soften as he speaks.

"Whatever." Yuri scoffs, taking off back to the center of the ice. "I don't need your pity."

"But we feel bad for you." Viktor says innocently.

Yuri returns to his routine; his step sequences go well but as he rears up for his quad he once again falls out of it.

"Plisetsky, quit it with the jumps if you're going to keep under rotating!" Yakov calls from the sidelines.

"Shut up!" Yuri retorts before throwing himself into yet another failed attempt at a quad.

"I'll take you off the ice myself if I have to! Don't think I won't!?" Yakov shouts.

Frustrated and entirely over practice, Yuri concedes by getting off the ice and collapsing in the locker room. Yakov gives him a firm telling off, something about how his body is his instrument and if he's going to fuck it up it better be worth it.

The scolding only leaves him more frustrated so he does the one thing he knows will settle his boiling blood.

"Hello?" Just the sound of Otabek's voice smooths Yuri's ruffled feathers.

"Hey, Yakov's being a dick."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Because?" He chuckles, egging Yuri onto the real heart of the issue.

"Well because Yakov's an asshole."

"And?"

"And… I got new skates a week ago and they still aren't broken in yet and I'm having growing pains which means my body's all fucked up… And I got a C in literature."

"Is that all?" He chuckles.

Yuri can't help but laugh as well. "Should I keep bitching?"

"Probably. It's funny."

Yuri bites his lip, "Also, and you're not going to believe this, the best person in the world – I mean just the most incredible, handsome person ever – lives like thousands of miles away from me."

"Yuri Plisetsky, do you have a crush on someone?" Otabek fakes surprise.

"Fuck me sideways, man, I think I do."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too." Yuri bites back the sudden urge to cry.

"I'm sorry about your growing pains, and your pain in the ass coach."

"Yeah well… I could deal with all that if I could still skate."

"It happens to everyone. You'll get back on it."

"But what if I don't?" Yuri asks. "Do you ever… Do you ever remember that all of this is temporary?"

"I mean… I try not to think about it like that."

Yuri hesitates for a moment. "My grandpa is sick again. Kidney stones."

"Oof, that's no good."

"I stayed up all night with him because I had convinced myself he wasn't okay… And I was right."

"Oh kitten."

"And I just keep thinking about how I'm not going to be able to skate forever, you know? That scares the shit out of me. Seeing him like this now… It just makes me think."

"And we can't have that." Otabek chuckles.

"Absolutely not." Yuri starts fidgeting with the cross around his neck.

"Well, I can tell you with absolute certainty that the growing pains will stop. It sucks now but it does end."

"I guess that's good news."

"You will get your balance back and your new skates will get broken in. Everything will get better, you'll see."

"Wow you are an absolute beacon of good news." Yuri smirks.

"And I love you."

"I love you too."

"I'm sorry to hear about your grandpa, my family and I are praying for him."

Yuri wants to make an incredibly insensitive joke but refrains. "Thank you."

"You are always allowed to call me; you know that right?"

"That's why I did."

Otabek chuckles, "I guess that's true."

"Any advice about literature?"

"Fuck no, you think I did well in literature? Especially Russian Literature?"

"You're a man of many talents." Yuri shrugs with a smile.

"While I'm flattered, I am not the one to ask."

"Well, guess I have to find a tutor."

"I'm sure Lilia either knows a guy or is your guy. She strikes me as a rich book club type of woman."

"I think the last thing we need is me spending more time with her."

"You're probably right." Otabek and Yuri fall into a comfortable silence. One that reminds them of the space between them and how present the rest of the world is.

"You have to go… don't you?"

"Well… soon."

"Beka, you should go. Just because I'm a bitch baby who can't train doesn't mean you should sit out too."

"You're not a bitch baby, Yuri."

"Why does that almost sound better than I love you?"

"Jerk off."

"I said almost." The two of them laugh before Yuri concludes the call. He then turns his attention to his skates.

He's quick to untie them but is slow to peel them off. His socks are caked in blood and the bruises are dark, angry purples.

He hears a hiss over his shoulder, "That looks bad."

"It's not." Yuri claims, taking a tissue and blotting some of the blood. "What do you want, Katsudon?"

"Well, for starters to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine."

"And to see if you'd come to dinner with Viktor and I."

"Are you going to be all lovey dovey?"

"Not while you're there."

"Gross."

"Will you come?" Yuuri asks again.

"Fine, whatever." Yuri begins to bandage his wounds.

"Great. We'll just be another half hour and we can go."

"Sure." Yuri continues to patch himself up. He gets a text from Otabek, a cat gif, the one where a cat gets pushed around by a mop. Yuri smiles at the image and returns in kind before limping to the bathroom. His bones vehemently protest, the burning soreness returns full force as he reaches the sink.

Despite the pain he cleans himself up, all the while reminding himself of his conversation with Otabek. There are just… so many things in the world that are temporary. It's a problem he's continuing to face, and life has been completely unrelenting as of late.

His body is changing, his grandfather is changing, even the ever-present ice rink is getting a new lobby. It's all so exhausting and overwhelming. And Yuri is tired, he has been for a while. He even came to the startling realization the other day that he's about to finish his mandatory school years… Who let that happen? And how did he not even notice that?

His heart starts beating faster as all of these thoughts wash over him. He feels weak and worried; he's starting to wonder if this is what anxiety is and that thought spirals him even further. After a solid five minutes of spiraling, he's able to snap himself out of the fog.

He manages to get a grip long enough to patch himself up and take some medicine for his aching muscles. Not long after that, the whirlwind of post practice overtakes the locker room. Yuri's attention fades in and out before Viktor and Yuuri whisk him off to dinner.

It's not an uncommon occurrence, the three of them having dinner together, but is a nice change of pace. Even if Yuri would never admit to that. He likes the pair of them and their strange, albeit comforting, camaraderie. If they weren't in a competitive sport they might have even made a great team.

The problems don't start until they offer to drive Yuri home. At first, he adamantly refuses, he reminds them of all the times he's made it home on his own (read: every time), and that it's out of their way. But their combined willpower is unrelenting, so he sits in the backseat playing with the cross around his neck wondering if they'll think less of him.

Why? Yuri couldn't say, it's not like he lives in a horrible part of town or anything… It just feels a little invasive, he reasons. It's a reasonable enough explanation, besides it's not like he owes them anything. Not an explanation and most certainly not a tour of his apartment.

When they arrive, Viktor stops the car and exits the vehicle.

"What are you doing?" Yuri asks, climbing out of the backseat.

"I'll carry your things for you." He says with a smile.

"You don't have to do that. I can take it myself." Yuri tries to grab his bag out of the trunk, but Viktor swipes it and throws it over his shoulder.

"You must be tired from practice, and you're a growing boy! I'll carry it for you."

Yuuri puts a hand on Yuri's shoulder. "Let him help, it'll make him feel better if nothing else."

"Ugh, fine, whatever." Yuri agrees but he isn't sure why. "Just don't bother my grandpa."

"Of course, we won't!" Viktor assures him.

Yuri cringes as he takes them up the stairs, he tries to think of a way, anyway, to keep them out of his apartment. Unfortunately, as he's unlocking the door he hears an all too familiar groan and his heart sinks.

"Yuri? What's that?" Viktor asks.

"You guys have to go." Yuri says, throwing himself through the door.

He turns the corner into the kitchen and stalls at the sight of his grandfather doubled over in pain with a pool of urine at his feet.

"Grandpa." Yuri barely whispers as he rushes over to him.

"Huh?" Nikolai glances up at his grandson, pain clear on his face.

"Grandpa-"

"I… I couldn't remember… where the bathroom was."

"It's alright, you're alright. I'll clean it up and everything will be okay." Yuri rubs Nikolai's arm and begins to glance around the kitchen for a towel.

Instead, he catches sight of Yuuri and Viktor standing in the doorway. They wear the same face, equal parts worried and devastatingly sad.

He even hears the hushed, "Oh my god," that falls out of Yuuri's face before he can cover his mouth.

Yuri feels a flare of rage in his chest as he mouths at the pair, "Get out."

But they don't obey him, instead Nikolai lets out another pained grunt and leans further into Yuri's grasp. Yuuri pushes into the kitchen and Viktor turns back towards the entrance of the apartment to drop the duffle bag.

Yuri kisses the side of his grandpa's head, "Let's get you to bed, yeah? You're tired and you need to rest."

"Roman?" Nikolai asks.

Yuri swallows thickly, "Yes Papa."

"Roman… it's been so long."

"I know, I'm sorry." Yuri coaxes Nikolai away from the counter and closer to the door.

"Is Yuri okay?"

"He's fine, Papa. Let's take care of you first." Yuri starts to lead him out of the kitchen.

"Who are they?" Nikolai asks through gritted teeth; the two offending men offer weak smiles.

"They're friends." Yuri responds despite the lump in his throat.

"Don't be rude, Roman, offer them tea okay?"

"I will once you're cleaned up."

Yuri finally manages to get his grandfather to bed. He takes a second to gather his courage before entering the kitchen again, only to find a sight that infuriates him more.

"What are you doing!?" Yuri snarls, careful to keep his voice low while retaining his fury. "I told you to leave."

Yuuri is undisturbed in his work of cleaning the floor, it's Viktor who approaches him. Wordlessly he wraps his arms around the younger boy; Yuri resists the contact, refusing to respond in kind.

When Viktor does pull away, he lifts Yuri's gaze towards his. "Are you alright?"

"No! I'm not alright – I told you to leave and you didn't, now go."

"Yuri, we meant it when we said that we're always going to be here for you. You should have asked us for help sooner." Viktor continues.

"I don't need help and I don't need to be scolded." Yuri feels the creeping heat of embarrassment rise up his neck. "It's not always like this, he's sick right now. But I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to handle it." Yuuri stands up and throws away the paper towel he was using.

"He's my grandpa I can take care of him, and I can clean up after him. It's fine."

"Does Yakov know?" Viktor asks.

"Why the fuck should he? He's not Yakov's student. Besides, it's just kidney stones, he'll recover from it."

Yuuri approaches with a gentle hand on Yuri's shoulder. "Does he always forget things?"

"He didn't… It's just… He's been sick for a few days; it'll be over soon."

"How long is 'a few days'?"

"I don't know five, six? What does it matter? You guys need to go."

Yuuri and Viktor exchange a glance before the latter speaks, "Will you come to us if you need help in the future?"

"Yeah, sure whatever."

"No, Yuri, I need to know. Will you come to us if this gets worse?" Viktor's voice is stricter than Yuri's ever heard it. His eyes are dark and his mouth is a firm line, there's a moment where Yuri thinks he looks frightening. That thought makes his once embarrassed flush drain into pale worry.

"Yes." He agrees, eyes dropping to the floor once he's spoken.

"Okay, I trust you." Viktor leans in for another hug, this time Yuri returns the gesture.

"Have you been getting enough sleep?" Yuuri asks.

"I have it handled." He deflects the question.

"I know you don't want to hear this, Yurio, but you are still a kid. You shouldn't have all this stress on your shoulders."

Yuri doesn't say anything, just shifts uncomfortably as the shooting pain in his legs return.

"Who's Roman?" Yuuri asks.

"Um…" Yuri's mouth goes dry as he thinks about deflecting this question too. But the silence is so long he can't find anything to fill it with except the truth. "My father."

The pair give him an even sadder look that reignites the anger inside of him.

"Stop looking at me like I'm pathetic."

"That's… that's not at all what we're thinking." Yuuri sighs.

"Well, it's what it looks like."

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever."

"If you need anything call us, anytime." Yuuri takes his turn to hug the younger boy.

"Please don't tell anyone." He whimpers weakly.

"We won't." Yuuri assures him with a smile.

Uncertain what to do, Yuri grabs some disinfectant from the cabinet. He then gets on his hands and knees and scrubs the floor, refusing to look up at the older two men. Eventually he hears the front door close and he lets out a heavy exhale.

It's been a bad day. A very bad day…

When he's satisfied with the kitchen he finally changes into pjs. Then he re-enters his grandfather's room to make sure he's asleep.

He isn't of course, he's awake and trying to stand up. So, Yuri guides him to his feet and then to the restroom. And he repeats the motions in reverse when the time comes. Finally, once he's sure that Nikolai is asleep he returns to his bed and lays there staring at the ceiling.

His legs continue to ache, the rest of his body attempts to recover from the emotional whiplash of the evening, and his mind refuses to settle.

He clutches the cross around his neck, his father's cross, and wishes he had the courage to call Yuuri and Viktor.

Come into focus

Step out of the shadows

Competition season is very nearly upon the skating community, the Junior Grand Prix is set to kick off in a few weeks. Skate America and the Cup of China are just on the horizon as well. That doesn't stop several of the world's biggest competitors from attending the opening exhibition.

Luckily for Yuri, Otabek is one of those skaters. He, Phichit, and Christophe have decided to extend their trip by a few extra days. Of course, none of them are willing to go a day without practice. It's only natural that they'd spend the first half of their day at the rink.

Viktor and Christophe are trying to race around the rink, pushing and shoving each other with loud ringing laughter. Phichit and Yuri are much more leisurely as they reminisce about their time in Detroit. Otabek and Yuri break up their practice time by improving an ice dance routine.

It's fun, and effortlessly so, even their coaches are at ease as they shoot the shit on the sidelines. Yuri and Otabek spin out of a particularly shaky hold at the behest of their coaches. But as Otabek skates away and back into his routine, Yuri stalls on the ice.

His ears deafen the rest of the world as he skates out of the rink; part of him is convinced it's a trick of his mind. That she's a trick of his mind. But he removes his skates and skips steps up the bleachers until he is face to face with his mother.

For the first time in a decade, he's seeing her in person.

She's changed since his last memories of her, she's dyed her naturally blonde hair to a coppery red. She has freckles now and age is beginning to show beneath her blue eyes.

"Mama… What are you doing here?"

She gives him a soft, sad sort of smile, "It's good to see you, Yurachka."

His courage shatters when she says that. He hasn't heard her say his name like that in so long – the little boy inside of him aches.

"You've done well here, huh?"

"I… I have, yeah."

"Good. I'm so very happy for you."

"Are you… well?" He catches the glimmer of silver on her ring finger and his chest tightens.

"Yes. Yes, I've been well." She nods.

"What is this about? Is everything okay? Grandpa said you'd been calling him more."

"It was really just a few times." His mother smiles. "You've grown up… My god you look just like-"

She stops herself, her eyes land on the cross he wears around his neck before they grow misty.

"That's what Grandpa says."

"Of course, he does."

"Mama?"

"Your grandfather and I have been… discussing this for a long time." She pulls out a folder and hands it off to him. "And we agreed that it will be for the best if I completely dissolve my parental rights."

Yuri takes the folder and it feels like a punch to the gut. He struggles to regain his breath as he processes her words. While he reels from the revelation, she continues to speak.

"And I am so sorry, Yurachka. I know this isn't ideal, but your life is here. My life is in Mexico. I can't keep stringing you along thinking that I'll bring you over or that I'll come back. And when I watch you skate, I know that this is where you need to be. It's not fair to you that I continue to have decision making power over you."

"You can't just… You can't just give me up." He says. He sounds breathless, exasperated, heartbroken.

"You may not believe me now, but I did this out of love. So much love."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You can't… abandon me like this."

Tears have begun rolling down her cheeks, "Darling, I gave you up the second I left you with your grandpa. Neither of us knew it then but... I wish it didn't have to be like this."

"It doesn't have to be like this, it doesn't." His voice feels weak. The sound he makes is barely a whisper even if he feels like he should be vicious.

"It does." She says. Reaching into her coat pocket she produces an atm card and hands it to him. "I'll continue adding money to this account for you. The pin is your birthday."

"I don't want your money." He says. Yuri feels the emptiness of his expression begin to fill his voice; the disbelief continues to wash over him like the cold tendrils of the ocean.

"It's all I can give you." She tells him.

"Yuri!" Yakov calls from the opposite end of the rink. When Katsudon pipes up he waves him off. "Yuri Romanovich! Get back on the ice or I'm keeping you late!"

His mother winces at the use of his patronymic name and wipes her eyes. "You should get back to practice."

She turns to leave; she hardly gets few steps away before Yuri speaks.

"Mama?" She looks over her shoulder toward him, "You're not even going hug me? Or say goodbye?"

She looks at him, a mixture of fondness and devastation in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

The only feeling that Yuri can use to describe his current state is defeat, and he hates losing. He hates losing anything.

"Romanovich, hurry up!" Yakov calls once more.

Yuri turns back to the rink the other skaters pass glances towards him but they don't know. They don't know what just happened, and who just absolutely shattered him. So, Yuri does his best to swallow his anguish. He puts the file and card into his bag, pulls on his skates, and gets back on the ice.

He throws himself into a few of his jumps, he swears he gets close to five rotations in an over rotated quad Lutz. It doesn't take long for Otabek to approach; he wears a smile but his eyes are attempting to read Yuri.

"Trying to work through something?" He asks.

"What? Why do you ask?" Yuri scoffs as he joins hands with Otabek.

"Because you have that look in your eye."

"What look?"

"The one where you're fighting a war all by yourself. And this time, you really don't have to."

Yuri won't say it, he can't say it here. Not with half of the world's greatest skaters all on the same ice. There are many opportune times to have an emotional breakdown, and this most certainly isn't one of those.

"I'll tell you later." Yuri says, forcing a slight smile before twirling himself out into a spin.

Otabek doesn't press further but he does scoop Yuri up into a layout lift, and that forces an awkward, bubbling laugh out of Yuri.

He spends the rest of practice throwing himself around the rink. Viktor and Christophe cheer him on in his pursuits while Otabek continues to circle back. He's not quite hovering, but he is present. Present enough to make Yuri feel a sense of closeness in spite of the tailspin his mind is currently in.

Practice finally ends and the group of them head to the locker room. Yuri sits by his bag, he thinks about the papers in there, how they effectively end his relationship with his mother. He realizes just how fucked up that is.

"Smile!" Phichit says.

"Huh?" Yuri looks up towards Otabek beside him before realizing that Phichit has snapped a group photo for his Instagram.

"Oh my god, Yuri! You and Otabek look so cute!" Phichit huddles the group together to look at the shot.

"Aw, do it again, my hair's a mess!" Viktor muses.

"It looks perfect, love." Yuuri chuckles, smoothing a few locks out of his eyes.

"Hey now, that's my job!" Christophe teases.

Yuri returns to his skates, pulling them off as his mind tries to figure out what happened to him. Well, he knows what happened to him but the why is really giving him an aneurism. Why did she-

"Hey, Yuri, who was that woman from earlier?" Yuuri asks conversationally.

"Oh yeah, she was pretty." Phichit comments.

Yuri is about to respond, but then he comes to realize something. "She's… nobody."

"Oh, come on now, you spent quite awhile talking to her. You had to know her somehow." Christophe drawls with a chuckle.

A hot flash of anger finally bursts in his chest, "Well she was my mother, but she's not anymore so that makes her… nobody."

The locker room comes to a grinding halt, all eyes rest on the youngest senior among them. Their gazes burn into him.

"What does that mean?" Otabek asks softly, reaching for Yuri's hand.

"She came here today to dissolve her rights as my parent. That's what I mean."

Otabek looks at him with disbelieving eyes, like never in his wildest dreams could he fathom someone doing such a thing.

"That's horrible." Phichit says.

"I… Yeah I'm aware." Yuri nods, looking up at the older skater.

"Why would she… You don't have to answer that but why would anyone do that?" Yuuri asks.

Yuri thinks about answering but a laugh falls out of his mouth. "My life is such a shit show."

Yuuri looks like he's about to refute that but can't bring himself to. Otabek's arm wraps around Yuri's shoulders.

"I'm so sorry." Otabek whispers to him.

"Don't be." Yuri shakes his head and continues to throw his things in his locker. "It's not like it came out of nowhere."

"It didn't?" Otabek asks.

"No." Yuri lies with ease. "I mean she's not been in my life for over a decade. She's not really a parent anyway."

"A decade?" Yuuri asks in disbelief.

"Why are we focused so much on this?" Yuri asks.

"I never thought I'd say this, but Yuri, I think you might be underreacting." Otabek says.

That brought out another laugh from Yuri. "Maybe but… what other choice do I have?"

It's a devastating question, the weight of which is not lost on any of them.

"I'm not going to sit here and cry over a bitch who left her only child the second her husband died." And he's officially said too much.

Otabek knows, of course, but nobody else had a clue. Yuri also has a realization like a freight train. He's an orphan now, or close to it at least. What do you call someone like that? Someone who has parents still in this world but not really?

"I feel like we're learning a lot about Yuri right now." Christophe chuckles nervously.

"Can we just… go have dinner and have fun? Like we said we would?" Yuri asks.

"Of course. Whatever you want." Otabek stands up and nods to him.

"And don't coddle me or treat me differently, okay? It's fine. I'm fine."

"Got it." Otabek confirms.

"I'll meet you guys out front." Yuri says, being the only one to be completely ready to go. He takes his things and walks towards Yakov's office.

"Yuri! Wait."

Yuri rolls his eyes as he turns towards the voice. "What do you want, Vitya?"

"Just to say that we love you." Viktor says, throwing his arms around the younger boy. "We do, all of us, not just Beka."

Yuri feels that last comment was unnecessary but returns the hug regardless.

"I hope you know how much we care about you." Viktor says with a smile.

"Yeah, you tell me. A lot." Yuri snorts.

"It doesn't matter how much I say it, I want you to believe it okay?"

Yuri tries not to let the sentiment of that statement wedge too deep into his heart. If he feels anymore today, he might actually lose it. The last thing he wants is to dissolve into a complete puddle of tears at Viktor's feet.

Viktor turns back to the locker room, leaving Yuri alone. When he goes to Yakov's office, he barely notices himself knocking.

"Come in." When Yakov sees that it's Yuri he stops whatever he's doing. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just thought you'd want this for your files or whatever." Yuri passes him the documents.

"What's this?"

"Oh, I don't have a guardian anymore." Yuri says with a blasé shrug of the shoulders.

Yakov looks at him, "That's not possible."

"Well, tell that to the ministry." Yuri rolls his eyes.

Yakov shakes his head, skimming the documents. "So you're my responsibility now?"

"Is that what it says?"

"It says your legal, medical, and the general care of your person are now my responsibility."

"Not my grandpa?" Yuri asks.

"It seems not." Yakov opens his printer and begins making copies of the documents.

"How did she do that?"

"You were already under the primary care of the institution; now that Tanya's forfeited her rights you are under my jurisdiction until your next birthday."

"Right."

"Are you alright, Yurachka?"

For some reason, perhaps it's the realization that Yakov really is the closest thing he has to a father or the weight of the day has finally reduced him to honesty, but Yuri shakes his head.

"No." He whimpers before covering his face. He cannot cry, he doesn't want to cry. In fact, it startles him when he lets out a dry sob; his eyes don't even water.

Yakov pulls him into an embrace. He doesn't say anything, just allows the boy to compose himself in the arms of someone who cares.

"I hate her." He admits. "I hate her so much."

"You deserve to." Yakov tells him. "She hurt you today."

"She's hurt me my whole life."

"And now she can't." Yuri's coach cuts somewhere deeper than Yuri was willing to explore. Because he's right.

They both are.

Yuri's mother hurt him, she abandoned him in the midst of his own grief. She escaped to a different country and never came back. She fed him empty promises and he choked on the hope of it all. But now… now she can't hurt him. Not anymore.

Yuri looks at his coach, his eyes still dry despite the whirlwind of emotion he's caught up in. And he smiles.

"Thanks coach."

"Whatever you need, we're here for you."

Yuri nods, taking back the original documents.

"Now go have fun, but not too much." Yakov instructs.

"Yeah, sure." Yuri nods and exits the room.

He heads back to the locker room and finds the group of skaters exiting. He catches up and grabs Otabek's hand, startling him out of his skin.

"So, are we ready?" Yuri asks with a smirk. The group seems a bit hesitant to agree, well except for Phichit.

"Yeah! I'm starving."

"You're in for a surprise I think." Yuri chuckles.

"What do you mean?" Otabek asks.

"Well… You'll see." Yuri tugs at his boyfriend's hand and pulls him after him.

They all pile into Viktor's car and drive to the restaurant. Well, restaurant might be a generous term for the establishment considering the blaring music and the disco lights.

"Pizza?" Viktor asks the group over the music.

"Is this… allowed?" Otabek asks, staring at everything happening around him.

"I was shocked the first time I saw it too." Yuuri assures him. "I'll get a table if you guys want to dance."

Otabek looks nervously at Yuri.

"We can if you want." Yuri squeezes his hand. Otabek nods, still clearly overwhelmed by the very essence of the club.

"I didn't peg you for the nervous type." Yuri chuckles as he leads his boyfriend into the thick of the crowd.

"I didn't think this is how Russian's do pizza places." Otabek chuckles.

"Hey, you can get most foods at these types of places, we don't discriminate." Yuri laughs.

"Obviously not." Otabek pulls him in for a kiss.

Yuri drowns himself in the bliss of being loved, in being surrounded by people who care and want him. It's enough to make him forget, even if it's only for a moment, that he's just that much more alone.

They dance and kiss like the world doesn't matter, like his shitty mother didn't abandon him. Like he really is and can be surrounded by love, and he can deserve that love. What a wonderful feeling that is regardless of how quickly he talks himself out of this moment of joy.

Eventually they return to the table and eat with their friends. Phichit snaps a few group photos and Christophe manages to take Yuuri's top off, a result of the latter having more to drink than he should.

Yuri is the one to suggest that Otabek spend the night at his apartment. Christophe says something dirty while Otabek bashfully accepts.

"It's not like that… well, it doesn't have to be." Yuri jests.

They cram into Viktor's car once more and when they arrive the energy is still high enough that Yuri doesn't regret his decision. They get their things and head up to the apartment, Otabek marveling at the home of his sweet kitten.

When they walk inside, the lights in the kitchen and living room are still on.

Yuri calls out, "Grandpa, come here, I want you to meet someone."

Otabek tentatively follows Yuri's example, first removing his shoes and then dropping his bag.

Nikolai comes out of the living room, his reading glasses still perched on the end of his nose.

"Grandpa, meet Otabek." Yuri gestures to the man behind him, "Beka, this is my grandfather."

"So, you're the one who occupies my Yurachka's evenings huh?" Nikolai chuckles, extending a hand to him.

"Yes sir." Otabek smiles, shaking his hand in return.

"Good, you look strong. I've seen your performances of course, but you look much smaller on my television," Nikolai winks. "Would you like some tea?"

"Grandpa it's late, you should be in bed." Yuri gives him a playful smile.

"Pft, you always worry." Nikolai swats at him, "Come, come the kettle's still warm."

As Nikolai heads into the kitchen Otabek tugs on Yuri's shirt. "Hey."

"Yeah? Do you not want tea? We have kompot." Yuri offers.

"No, I like tea, I just… Thanks for bringing me here." He blushes. "You're… you're sweet with him."

Yuri pulls Otabek in for a kiss, "Don't ever call me sweet again."

"Yurachka? Does he like sugar?"

Yuri takes Otabek into the kitchen and the three of them have a nice long talk over tea. Otabek shows grandpa photos of Kazakhstan, they talk about their other competitors, and they talk about family. Yuri feels warm seeing it all happen, even if there is a hollowness that still aches in his chest left by his mother's apathy.

He sees so much light and love in the eyes of Nikolai and Otabek. As the conversation winds down, Yuri checks through his social media and he sees a post from Phichit. A few of the group photos from the night; the caption seems to say it all.

Family 3

It's a losing battle

There's no need to be ashamed

The countdown has begun, two weeks until the Grand Prix Final begins and one week until competition rosters are announced. Yuri finds himself in a weird state of anxious to begin and not ready at all for the circuit.

He knows his routines are good, better than last year's even. That doesn't change the fact that he's competing against the Viktor Nikiforov and every skater in the world is coming after his title. Even his very own boyfriend continues to tease him about being the new champion.

Yuri would also be lying if he didn't admit that something just feels wrong this year. Ever since the beginning of the season, the introduction to his theme, and all the life in between he's had this horrible sinking feeling. It feels like a sort of premonition or an omen of some sort, the tightness in his chest that weighs him down in bed at night.

He tries not to pay too much attention to the feeling, however, especially not today. He has the day off from training, his first in a while, and he's dedicating it to helping Nikolai with chores. Busy work is a good motivator, it keeps him grounded and his nerves placated.

"Yurachka? Have you seen my wallet?" Grandpa calls from his room.

Yuri finishes folding the towel in his hands. "Should be in the front hall, why?"

"I need it to do the shopping." Nikolai says, adjusting his belt as he exits his room.

"I can do that for you, make me a list." Yuri continues his task.

"No, no. Natalia gives me the discounts not you." He winks at his grandson, who chuckles in spite of himself.

"At least let me go with you."

"You've enough to do today. And on your day off no less! I'll go, I'll go." Nikolai goes to the front hall and slips on his shoes.

"Should I cook before you get back or wait?" Yuri calls out.

"I'll do it when I get home."

Yuri rolls his eyes; that's a plan that never pans out. Nikolai will likely be too tired to cook when he gets back, so Yuri heads into the kitchen to see what he can make.

Just as he decides that vareniki will be the easiest thing to throw together he hears a loud bang from out in the hallway.

There's a moment of paradox within Yuri then, his heart completely stops but his feet fly out of the apartment. Throwing the door open, he bolts down the stairs to the crumpled, unconscious form of his grandfather.

Yuri knows he's screaming; he can feel the cry rip out of his throat even if he can't hear it himself. One of their neighbors, an older woman who always brings them fresh jams, exits her room. Phone in hand, she quickly dials for an ambulance.

Yuri still can't manage to process what's happening; he's desperately holding onto his grandfather's face begging for him to open his eyes. His neighbor starts asking him questions that he doesn't have answers to and he panics.

In a moment of unbridled weakness, his pulls out his phone and texts Viktor a string of incoherent cries for help. Then he texts Otabek and when Viktor still hasn't responded to his texts, he sends Yuuri a similarly frantic stream of messages. He repeats the process with Lilia and Yakov, receiving the same hollow silence. The panic intensifies with each passing second; his neighbor leaves him alone with the terror and he clutches his phone so hard he nearly crushes it.

She returns with the paramedics – Yuri only sits back on the stair behind him to give them access to Nikolai. They talk quickly, much quicker and with much more technical language than Yuri can keep up with as they load him onto a stretcher.

One of the paramedics finally looks to him. "Where's your father?"

Yuri shakes his head, "He's not… around."

"Your mother then?"

Yuri shakes his head again.

"Do you want to ride with us then? You know his medical history, da?"

Yuri nods, rapidly following behind as close as they'll allow him. They let him hold Nikolai's hand but it feels so wrong to him. The whole situation is so painfully unreal in his mind, things like this don't just happen. But there had been warning signs; Nikolai is old, he's getting weaker and sick more often. Everyone dies.

Dies.

The word knocks the breath out of him. Nikolai can't die. He can't. He can't.

They arrive at the hospital and Yuri is met with a doctor asking for as much information as he can recall. Date of past surgeries, medications, alcohol consumption, last hospital visit, name of his primary doctor.

Yuri answers to the best of his ability, the feeling of his phone buzzing endlessly in his jacket pocket grounds him to reality. The doctor questioning him leads him to a waiting room and hands him a mountain of forms to look over.

He's pretty sure they don't need his permission for any kind of medical procedures. Especially when the only thing he managed to say when the doctor asked what they could do for him was simply a frantic, fix him.

He curls up into himself in the waiting room, his fingers scratching at the fabric of his jeans and then playing with the cross around his neck. Yuri doesn't mean to keep ignoring the texts and calls bombarding his phone, it's just that at this point, he's used to the buzzing in his jacket.

It's like he is in another world entirely, a world that's under water and freezing. But not in the comforting way that the ice rink freezes him, this is a totally different experience. One that seems to suck the life out of him and makes his heart heavier. It's even difficult to breathe, his body feels heavy, and it hurts even just sitting here. All alone.

Why does he always end up alone?

Soon the flash of a white coat pulls him out of the depths of his mind. He stands up to meet the doctor's gaze. He's told a whole slew of things, medical terms that simply don't make sense to him and even a half-hearted bit of praise for his quick thinking. Then of course, he says something that does make sense, and it's a complete kick in the teeth.

"Unfortunately, we aren't certain when your grandfather will wake up. It could be quite some time. Do you have family you can stay with for the time being?"

"What do you mean by some time?" Yuri asks.

"It could be a few hours, maybe even a couple of days."

"Days?" Yuri's hand covers his mouth after the word falls out of it.

"I'm sorry, but we can't be certain."

"Can I… can I at least see him?"

"I'll have a nurse come get you when they're finished." The doctor nods to him.

"Yurachka!" Yuri feels a warm body slam into him. His legs are so weak he nearly topples over, he's only stabilized by the man griping his body.

"Yurio! We were so worried."

"Are you Nikolai's doctor?"

Entirely without warning, Yuri is engulfed in the arms of Viktor, his ragged breath hot in his ear. Yuuri stands directly in front of him, petting his head and wiping his own eyes of worried tears. Yakov and Lilia stand next to the doctor, discussing the situation.

"Why weren't you answering your phone!? Do you have any idea how scared we were?" Viktor scolds.

It's then that Yuri pulls out his phone to see a myriad of texts from Yuuri, Yakov, Otabek, even Phichit, Christophe, and Leo have been texting him. He also has a grand total of 23 missed calls, 18 of which are from Viktor himself.

"Sorry." He says softly.

"Viktor don't yell at him! It's alright Yuri, we're just glad you're safe." Yuuri takes his turn to crush the teenager into a hug.

Yuri finds himself gripping Katsudon's shirt before he can stop himself. He suddenly feels anchored again, like he's broken through the surface of the dark waters around him and has found a dock to harbor in.

"Why don't we sit down and you can tell us everything that happened." Yuuri pulls back from Yuri and brushes a few strands of his hair out of his face.

The idea of speaking on what had happened makes Yuri's throat swell up. He finds his vision becoming unfocused, he thinks it's the onset of tears but he swallows them as much as he can. He's convinced himself that he cannot cry here, that he will not cry in this hospital unless the worst comes to pass.

Viktor and Yuuri sit on either side of him, each taking one of his hands. Viktor holds Yuri's head close to his own while Yuuri continues to whisper kind words. Yakov and Lilia come to stand in front of him; Lilia crouches to his level and places a hand on his knee.

Eventually, when he's swallowed enough of his pride to fill his stomach for days, Yuri speaks.

"He was just trying to go to the store." He says. His voice trembles in tandem with his quivering body. "He barely stepped out of the apartment… I didn't see what happened, but I heard him fall down the stairs and…"

His voice catches and he swallows the emotion once again. "And he wasn't conscious. I didn't know what to do, I panicked… So, I texted you all and I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, you did the right thing." Yuuri assures him.

"He's going to die. I know he will, but I don't want him to." Yuri admits feebly.

"Oh malenko." Lilia squeezes his knee.

"You don't know what's going to happen." Viktor tells him, "He could still recover from this."

Yuri doesn't say what he's thinking; even if he does survive this time, the next he might not. It doesn't change the fact that he isn't ready to lose the only family he has left. He isn't ready at all.

Just as Yuri's about to say something, a nurse approaches to inform him that they finished in Nikolai's room and he's welcome to visit. He thinks Yakov says something, but he doesn't listen; instead he pushes past the adults crowding him and goes to the room.

Nikolai doesn't look good, even without the wires keeping him alive; his head is bandaged and his hands are all cut up. He's a man that looks as close to dead as you can be while still breathing. Yuri nearly vomits at the sight.

Still, he steps forward and sits in the chair beside him. He hears the others follow in after him but he doesn't acknowledge them. Instead, he grabs hold of his father's cross and places his hand over Nikolai's heart. Then he bows his head and starts mumbling a prayer; the words fall out of his face like a record player spits out a song. Something that should be long forgotten but still comes so naturally, still sounds like a lovely little melody.

He hears Yuuri ask Viktor, "What's he doing?"

"He's saying the healer's creed," Viktor whispers back. "He's praying."

Yuri tunes out the rest of their conversation, choosing instead to focus on the familiar cadence. The rhythmic devotion he spoke for his father so many years ago. It didn't help then; he'd been furious at God for taking his father in spite of his pleas. Now he knows better. This is the only thing he can do, the only thing he can offer.

As such, he offers it fully and without the expectation that any healing will be given in return.

When they start to judge you

Show them your true colors

Viktor informs Yuri that he will be staying with him and Yuuri while his grandfather is in the hospital. It's not exactly a proper conversation, it's more like gentle instruction and Yuri dejectedly gives in. He doesn't even try to claim that he can take care of himself (which, of course, he can) which worries everyone even more.

He's so despondent as Viktor and Yuuri drive him to his apartment that he can't even bring himself to be angry at their constant worried glances. Yuuri attempts light conversation a few times; he asks what he wants for dinner, if he wants to take a bath when they get home. All sorts of things that Yuri can't bring himself to give a shit about.

Upon arriving at the complex, Yuri wordlessly takes them up to the apartment. The cleanliness almost feels wrong now, like he has already washed his grandfather's memory from the place. Packing is easy, it always has been, the years of international competing have helped him manage suitcase space properly. Potya even does her part by gracefully entering her carrier without a fight.

His new hosts take all of his bags for him as they exit the apartment. Yuri makes sure to lock the door behind him and nearly deflates as he does so. He knows he can come back, he'll have to either way; if grandpa dies, to clean it all out and if he lives, to simply move back in. That fact doesn't stop the feeling of finality from creeping up the back of his neck.

As they're walking down the stairs, they're stopped by the neighbor who helped him earlier. She smiles sweetly, offers condolences and sochnyky; she has a whole basket of food that she forces onto his arm. She calls him a strong boy and Yuri does his best to accept her pity with a gracious smile.

Then she turns to Viktor and Yuuri, "Take care of him. He's spent so long taking care of Nikolai it's his turn to be carried."

Yuuri looks at her intently but Yuri can tell that he doesn't understand her Russian. Viktor, however, nods with a smile and assures her he's in good hands.

Yuri climbs into the back seat of Viktor's car and takes a deep breath. He's sure Yuuri and Viktor want a moment to talk about him alone. They can complain about how horrible his timing is and how inconvenient it will be to have him staying with them.

Yakov calls before Yuri's mind can spiral with all the cruelty he's capable of.

"Yeah?"

"Are you home yet?" Yakov asks directly.

"We're in the car." Yuri sighs dejectedly.

"Well get home safe, rest up. Lilia and I have agreed to push your practice time back tomorrow, so we won't see you until after lunch."

"I can still skate." Yuri says defensively.

"You've had a long day, Yuri, you need to rest first and then we'll see." Yuri rolls his eyes as Victor and Yuuri enter the car.

"Competition's coming up, I can't start slacking." Yuri protests; it's a thinly veiled cry for help. Please don't take skating from me, it's all I have left.

"You will be fine. I want you to take care of yourself off the ice before you get on it."

"Whatever."

"I'll see you tomorrow at one, alright?"

"Yeah, fine."

"And I will be checking in with Vitya and Katsuki to make sure you're settling in."

"I get it alright?"

"Goodnight, Yurachka."

"Bye." Yuri hangs up and looks tiredly out the window.

"Everything okay?" Yuuri asks cautiously. Probably worried that something else in Yuri's general vicinity has imploded.

"Yakov's hovering. It's nothing." Yuri says.

"He cares about you." Yuuri assures him. When met with silence the older man continues, "When we get home, we can help you settle in. Unpack your things, you can maybe take a bath."

Yuri gives a non-committal grunt in response.

"I also think you should call Otabek. He's worried about you too."

"People need to stop worrying. I'm fine." Yuri retorts, but the words are not only false, they're delivered so limply they all feel the sting of defeat.

When they arrive at Viktor and Yuuri's home, Yuri's blank expression shifts to one of resigned annoyance. There are reporters swarming the apartment, all of them immediately crowd the car as soon as they park.

"Yuuri, take Yurachka inside, I'll get his things." Viktor instructs, shoving his door open into a photographer standing too close.

Yuri feels himself beginning to tremble again as he exits the car. Yuuri does his best to shield the teen from the rapidly flashing cameras, but he can't protect him from the questions being flung at him.

"Plisetsky! Is it true your grandfather passed away this evening?"

"Are you permanently moving into the Nikiforov-Katsuki household?"

"Is it true that you're effectively homeless?"

"How long have you been hiding your grandfather's illness?"

"Will you be pulling out of the upcoming Grand Prix competition?"

Yuuri's arms tense around him as the bombardment of questions continues; they push through the crowd and into the safety of the building. It's a much newer complex than the one Yuri and his grandfather have been living in. The lights are bright and white, there's an elevator, and the air has no musk of another era; it's almost too similar to the hospital and that thought lodges in Yuri's throat as they board the elevator.

Yuuri keeps a protective arm around Yuri, his hand squeezing his shoulder to provide a semblance of comfort. Yuri pretends not to appreciate the offer of protection.

He's been to their apartment a few times before, mostly when Viktor forgets something, or they offer to host him for lunch. It's a nice place; warm and spacious, it has a nice view of the city and is even within walking distance of the rink. Still, it's not home. Not his home at any rate.

Makka greets her master with a tail wag and a chirp of a bark before vigorously sniffing Yuri and Potya's carrier. The two pets thankfully get along well, and once Yuri releases Potya from her crate the pair pad off to find a comfortable spot to cuddle.

"I'm so sorry about that, Yuri. I don't know how they found out." Yuuri says sadly.

Yuri shrugs dejectedly, removing his shoes and jacket before entering the home further.

"Your room will be right over here. You'll have your own bathroom and everything." Yuuri takes him down the hall and shows him his new living space. "Are you sure you don't have a preference for dinner? We can order out if you want."

"I'm not hungry." Yuri says it even knowing he hasn't eaten since breakfast that morning. It's not a total lie; his stomach aches with worry and dread, not hunger. He still feels bad for saying it.

"Well, I'll get started cooking and you can come into the kitchen whenever you feel up to it. Sound alright?"

"I guess." Yuri tentatively sits on the bed as Yuuri leaves. It's much bigger than his back home, but it doesn't smell right and the blankets are stiff like the ones in hotels.

He takes out his phone and finally texts Otabek back. Today's been insane, I'm sorry I worried you.

Yuri feels the weight of his own burden land on his shoulders. What a jackass of a boyfriend he's turning out to be, frantically texting Otabek during a moment of weakness then not even bothering to return his calls.

His phone starts ringing in his hand and Yuri hesitates before answering. He knows he'll have to tell the story all over again and that's the last thing he wants to do. But he's also selfish, and he desperately wants to hear Otabek's voice.

"Hello?" Yuri answers.

"Thank god you're okay, you are okay right?" Otabek's tone drips with concern.

"I'm fine," Yuri confirms, thumbing his father's necklace as he speaks.

"You damn near gave me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Viktor enters the room then; he gives a gasp and a, "Sorry Yura! Just leaving your things," before closing the door behind him.

"My grandpa's in the hospital… it's not looking good. He fell down a flight of stairs this morning and it was bad. Really bad." Yuri tells the story and his eyes burn. He wants to cry but he just can't bring himself to.

This isn't his home, it's not safe to cry here, especially not with Vitya and Katsudon in the next room.

"I'm so sorry, kitten. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me."

"I'm sorry I didn't get back to you. I shouldn't have worried you, there's nothing you could have done to help."

"Hey, I meant it when I said I'd always be here for you. You can always call me, anytime anywhere."

"Yeah but…" He wants to say something along the lines of I'm not worth that kind of commitment but he doesn't. "I can't cry."

"What do you mean?"

"I really want to cry… Like I just want to scream and sob because I think I've earned it. I just can't."

"I'm sure your time will come," Otabek chuckles softly.

"Maybe."

"Where are you right now? Are you with your grandpa?"

"No, I'm staying with Viktor and Yuuri while we… wait." Yuri sighs.

"That's good, they can look after you."

"I'm not some pet that can't fend for itself. I'd have been fine on my own."

"Sure, but you don't have to be alone and that's kind of the point." Yuri thinks Otabek is wrong. He is alone. If Nikolai really does die, he'll be completely and utterly alone. His only relative will be a shell of a woman who has no legal sway over him.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I'm glad you're staying with them because they care about you. Don't be afraid to lean on them, okay? They love you only slightly less than I do, which is honestly a little bit terrifying."

Yuri gives an empty chuckle. "Viktor doesn't do anything half assed."

"And you take after him." Yuri can almost hear Otabek smile through the phone.

"You should probably get going huh? It's late for you."

"It's not so late, I can stay on if you want."

"I need to eat or Viktor will go full babushka on me and call Yakov to tell him I'm starving." The two of them laugh at the metal image that invokes. "I love you."

"I love you too, kitten."

"Talk soon."

"Bye."

Yuri hangs up and reluctantly exits the guest bedroom. He hears the sizzling of something in the kitchen and a low conversation between his hosts.

"It was awful seeing him like that, the poor kid just can't catch a break." Yuuri sighs.

"I'll talk to Yakov about getting the press to back off. Next time I might not be so courteous as to just ignore them." Viktor has an edge to his voice as he speaks.

"Please don't punch a reporter."

"Punching will be the least of their concerns if they keep harassing my kid."

"You know that with all that's going on in his life this is just another facet. He's a public figure after all."

"I know… but someone needs to protect him."

"And we will do our best."

Yuri feels frustration build in his chest; he's 16 years old he can protect himself from a fucking reporter. If he weren't so tired he might go to bat on the issue. Instead he walks into the kitchen and halts the conversation.

"Oh, Yurachka, how was your call?" Viktor asks brightly.

"Fine." Yuri goes to the dog bed in the corner and begins alternating pets between Potya and Makka.

"Yakov told us your practice times got shifted a bit so you can sleep in," Yuuri says with a smile.

"You're going in earlier then?" Yuri mutters.

"No, no, we'll go in around the same time. Just so we can all have a slow morning."

"Will I have time to visit grandpa?" Yuri asks in a voice so small he doesn't recognize it.

"I'm sure we can work that in, whatever you want." Viktor tells him.

Yuri sticks his nose into Potya's fur; she still smells like their apartment, like home. He almost asks for a cup of kompot but doesn't want to risk the disappointment. He isn't sure what might send him over the edge, so he doesn't push his luck.

Instead, he gets up and sits at the table, idly listening to Yuuri and Viktor's attempts at small talk. Dinner is delicious, even if it's not Nikolai's cooking, and Yuri ignores the relieved looks on his hosts' faces as he eats. The two of them are threatening to turn into true worrywarts if they keep up with this level of intensity.

Yuuri shows him how the shower works and he's finally left alone for the evening. The water does not melt away his mask of indifference like Yuri had hoped. All the pent-up rage, anguish, and devastation remain a solid wall in his heart.

He isn't sure how to feel about that. Maybe this means he really is broken; he can't even show emotion for the most important person in his life. The weight of all his grief sits on his chest as he lays down to sleep. It makes him feel like breathing isn't possible.

Soon he's joined by Potya, who curls up at the foot of his bed like a stoic little protector. Makka follows shortly after, but she does an entirely different song and dance. She licks his face a few times before nuzzling her head beneath his chin and flopping beside him. The sound of her thumping tail against the mattress makes Yuri roll his eyes.

Nevertheless, he scratches her ears and eventually rests his cheek on her soft head. He knows that the dog is just happy to have another person to dote on and her little cat friend to play with during the day. But he pretends for a moment that her actions aren't selfishly motivated.

He falls asleep surrounded by something close enough to love, which is more than he had expected out of a day so catastrophically terrible.

And do unto others

As you'd have done to you

Grandpa still isn't awake nearly a week later, Yuri still hasn't cried over it all. He knows that some sort of catastrophic storm is coming at any second that will bring him down like a condemned building. That doesn't stop him from stuffing his emotions deep down as if his heart isn't already overflowing with anguish.

He smirks as he receives a text from Otabek, apparently he's going to be competing at the Cup of China against Viktor and Yuuri. The commotion of bracket day is always interesting. People go crazy finding out which qualifiers they're participating in for the Grand Prix.

Yuri isn't immune to the chaos, of course, especially not now that he's the defending champ. He just has a whole hell of a lot of other shit on his mind.

The Russian senior team is all gathered in the board room to discuss placements, travel plans, and to outline their public appearances. Yuri only half pays attention to the new ISU rules, they're always changing anyway so there's barely a point in keeping up. His mind wanders back to his grandfather, the doctors said he was doing better but still being in a coma doesn't seem like any progress at all.

Yakov starts discussing the beginning portion of the circuit, how Yuuri, Viktor, Mila, and Oksana will be competing at the Cup of China. Yuri is slated to perform at Skate America the same week.

"Because of the timing I'll be with you four, Yuri will be with Lilia." Yakov goes off on a tangent about receiving updates and video evidence of practices while he's away with the junior skaters.

For some reason, he's sure he's just being a bitch baby again, but the idea of going to America frightens him. Going alone almost feels entirely impossible. He won't be alone, he reminds himself, he won't be alone because he'll have Lilia. He hates that he wants Yakov with him too, hell he's even mad at Viktor and Yuuri. Not because they're taking Yakov from him (well okay maybe that too), but because he wants them to come with him.

What kind of weak, little kid bullshit is that? He'd also be remiss to admit that it stings.

When they are finally released back onto the ice, Yuri feels a warmth rise in his chest and not the good kind. The fondness that always overwhelms him on the ice doesn't come. In fact, he only feels weight and heaviness crushing him from within.

He trips over his own feet and he starts to get frustrated. If he can't get his shit together what will be the point of going all that way to compete? In America no less, away from his grandfather. Oh god how long will that be? Almost five days away from Nikolai's side? At a time like this?

That feeling of choking overwhelms him again. His shoulders tense and he lets out a cough just to prove to himself he can, in fact, breathe. The warmth that bloomed in his chest quickly turns into heat and he soon wonders if he's actually managed to stress himself into a fever.

He makes the (stupid) decision to leave during his lunch break. He throws his things in his locker and walks out of the rink. Vaguely, he hears Yakov shout at him and he definitely hears footsteps following behind him.

All of that doesn't matter to him, however, as he walks with purpose back towards Viktor and Yuuri's apartment. It's the only place he feels safe in right now (not to mention the closest) and he hates that feeling. The loss and waywardness of his mind makes him want to scream. The heat in his body only grows as he enters the building.

He takes the stairs, all four flights, because he's come to realize that the second he stops moving he's going to crumble. Something in him has snapped and he knows he's running out the clock on his emotional breakdown.

Yuri enters the apartment; he doesn't acknowledge Makka or Potya as he removes his shoes. The tears brim in his eyes but he does not let them fall until he sits on his bed.

Once he's there, however, he lets out the scream that's been building inside of him for months.

And he weeps, loud ugly horrific cries that make his own ears hurt. He curls up on himself and he wails into his knees.

He feels a hand on his back and he collapses onto the person who followed him here.

"Yurachka," Viktor sighs, squeezing him into his side.

"I just want a mom, Vitya," he says, and the statement absolutely crushes the man beside him.

"I know."

"I just want a mom who will love me, and-and-and who will take care of grandpa while I'm gone. I want someone - anyone to help me." Yuri's tears seep into Viktor's shirt as the pair begin to rock rhythmically.

"I'm here to help you." Viktor promises, "I'm here."

"Why did she leave? Why wasn't I good enough?"

"You are more than good enough, it's not your fault."

"But she left me."

Viktor hums as he thinks of a response. Another pair of arms wraps around Yuri and a kiss is planted on the back of his head.

"We love you, sweetheart. We do." Yuuri says.

"Grandpa's going to die while I'm gone. He's going to die alone and it's my fault he got hurt to begin with."

"No, malenko, that's not your fault either," Viktor assures him.

"It feels like it is."

"I promise you it's not, and your grandpa is getting better. He's not going to die."

"You don't know that."

"And you don't know if he will," Yuuri says affectionately. "You've been faced with a lot in the past few months and that's not fair. You have been so strong through it all, I'm floored by you."

"I'm so tired."

"That's okay, your heart and your body deserve to rest." Viktor pets his hair.

"Grandpa needs me… If he dies I won't have anyone left."

"You will always have us," Viktor tells him. "Always. Yuuri and I are going to be with you no matter what."

"I'm scared to be alone," he admits, the shrill edge of his voice finally whittled down into a desperate admittance.

"Then you never have to be alone," Yuuri assures him. "You have us."

Yuri doesn't respond, he keeps crying and shaking, his skin becomes uncomfortably hot and sweaty. Viktor and Yuuri stay with him, rocking him back and forth, rubbing his shoulders for comfort.

The obnoxious sputtering cries wracking his body feel good to release and it feels good to be held. Even if he isn't certain whether or not he's being fed lies by the pair of them.

He doesn't care because at least he's feeling something.

Eventually he quiets his wailing enough to extract himself from the smothering embrace of his hosts. They instruct him to rest and to come to them if he needs anything else. He goes to the bathroom to avoid any further confrontation. Yuri washes his face, but it's a futile effort because he keeps crying even once he's dried himself off.

He goes back to his room and lays on the bed. He's only alone for a moment before Potya jumps up next to him. She rubs her face against his cheeks, his arms, and eventually settles against his chest.

Absentmindedly petting his cat, Yuri decides to call Otabek. His hands shake and his tears continue to leak down his cheeks as he wonders if Otabek will even pick up.

"Hello?"

Guess that's a yes. "Hey."

"What's up? I just started my lunch break so I have time."

Yuri feels his breath quiver before he speaks. "I can't stop crying."

Otabek lets out a sound that's almost relieved. "I'm glad you finally started."

"Viktor and Yuuri saw me crying."

"Did something happen?"

"Nothing new… I just can't stop."

"You're going to hate me for saying this, but that's good."

"It sucks."

"Yeah, but it's worth it. You're a soldier whose war never seems to stop."

Yuri grabs the cross around his neck; Potya bristles at the loss of her pets but continues to purr beside him.

"My dad was a soldier you know. A real one," he says softly. When Otabek says nothing in response he keeps talking. "I just kind of feel like I'm reliving the worst parts of my childhood here."

"What do you mean?"

"I never told you how my dad died… did I?"

"You never had to."

"Grandpa said it was a training accident… I still don't really know what happened. All I know is that everyday for a month we'd go to his hospital room and we'd pray over him. I remember my mom told me…"

He hesitates to continue as the memory surfaces for the first time in a while.

"She told me if we just prayed hard enough he'd wake up. I was so convinced that I just had to keep trying and he'd pull through. And I was five so I convinced myself he might even grow his leg back if I was really persistent. I remember hearing her tell my grandpa that if my dad died she wouldn't be able to look at me anymore, and I guess she was more serious than I realized."

He hears Otabek let out a soft gasp at that admission. Yuri doesn't comment because now the story is falling out of his face as quickly as the tears.

"So, anyway, when he died I knew it was my fault. I just knew it was because I didn't do enough. I watched my mom fall apart and the only one who held everything together was my grandpa. But now he's not here so who's going to hold it together when I can't? Because I can't, Beka, I can't."

"I've got you, kitten. I know I'm far away and this isn't ideal, but I am here for you."

"I just want to feel better."

"I know."

"And I want my mom back."

"I wish I could fix it for you."

"I just keep wondering what else I could have done."

"Her decision has nothing to do with you. She was being entirely selfish."

"If I'd never gotten into skating she'd have brought me over to live with her."

"You don't know that."

"But I feel like it's true."

Otabek pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "It has never been your responsibility to make your mother love you. She made her choices and it's horrible that her choices have caused you so much pain. I'm sorry that she's put so much pressure on you for all these years."

"I love you."

"I love you too… You know, my parents would be more than happy to adopt you."

Yuri scoffs, "Don't make it weird, then I'd have to kiss my brother. Which is definitely not legal anywhere on earth."

Otabek chuckles, "I guess you're right. Besides, I'd have to pry you out of Viktor's cold dead hands."

"Probably."

"And Yuuri is a total mother hen."

"He is."

"It's sweet how much they care about you."

Yuri returns his hand to Potya's ears and she melts further into him. "It's something."

"Lean on them, okay? They're taking care of you and I think they really want to help."

"Okay."

"I love you, kitten."

"I love you too… I should go," Yuri says, noticing the crack in his door has widened some.

"Call me if you need anything."

"Make sure you eat something; you'll need all the help you can get at the Cup of China."

"Of course."

Yuri hangs up and swings out of bed. He pads over to the door and pushes it open to see Viktor and Yuuri scramble away from the door and run into each other in the process.

"Yurachka! Sorry! We just heard you talking and wondered if you needed anything," Viktor explains as Yuuri hastily rights himself.

"Do you want to get pizza?" Yuri asks in response.

"Um…" Yuuri looks at him with a tilt of his head.

"Sure! I'll put together an order." Viktor heads into the kitchen while Yuuri remains gob smacked.

"How much did you hear?"

"Nothing! We didn't-"

"Katsudon I'm not stupid, just tell me."

"We may have… heard about your dad."

Yuri nods, "Just don't bring it up again. Okay?"

"Of course, whatever you need." Yuuri promises.

"Yurachka? What kind of toppings do you want?" Yuri brushes past Yuuri.

"…Thanks for caring." Yuri says before heading into the kitchen.

The trio take the rest of the day off from practice. Yuuri and Viktor try not to hover, and Yuri pretends not to notice them checking in his room more often. He thinks about what Otabek said and how it might not be the worst thing in the world to lean on the pair of them.

He surprises them when he comes out into the living room and turns on a movie. It's a wordless invitation to spend time together and they take the opportunity with grace. The three of them squish together on the sofa and hold a light conversation.

Yuri thinks that it's nice, even if he's not ready to admit that out loud.

Just rise above this

Kill them with your kindness

His morning starts early, as it usually does on competition days. Yuri completes his morning stretches while watching re-runs of The Cup of China free skate. Viktor had taken gold, surprising no one, Otabek had just barely taken second above Yuuri. It was a close competition, one that Yuri was re-watching for the second time still completely enthralled.

His own free skate event is coming up in a few hours, his confidence has been renewed now that he's in first place after the short program. Yuri's new program is just as impressive as he expects from himself and his performance yesterday has given him a sense of accomplishment. He feels like himself again, like he can actually win.

Lilia has his breakfast waiting for him, she talks to him about the upcoming performance. She reminds him of her most common notes and to watch out for his trouble areas throughout the program. Yuri listens attentively, he's going to nail this free skate and it's going to feel incredible.

Once they arrive at the rink Yuri's mind goes full into competition mode. He looks between his fellow competitors and assesses them in his mind. Phichit's in second after the free skate, but Yuri is pretty positive that he won't be able to catch up to him. Seung Gil Lee is in third only a point behind Phichit; there's probably going to be a battle for second between the two of them. Emil could also surprise everyone and take a medal from his current fourth position.

"Hey, Yuri!" Phichit waves, "Good luck!"

Yuri nods back, "You too."

He hears a scoff behind him, "Someone's being friendly today."

Seung turns his gaze back before Yuri can lash out at him for the comment. One of the newer skaters making their senior debut gawks at the exchange, but Yuri ignores them outright. He has to maintain focus.

The skaters are called out for their warmup on the ice, a burst of tingling energy swirls in Yuri's chest as he whips around the rink. He focuses on his jumps; he's attempting four quads in this program and he wants to make sure he lands them all. The first two land cleanly, his confidence bolsters even further. The third, however, is another story.

He feels that this one doesn't have the best entrance, he expects to under rotate and tries to correct his form just a bit too late. What he doesn't expect to see as he spots the ground is a skate mere centimeter from his face.

The next thing he's aware of is an intense pain just behind his ear and the taste of blood in his mouth. His hand curls up on the side of his head while his body stiffens against the ice. This is not good.

He attempts to get himself upright but the pain keeps him on his knees, his hand feels wet now and his mouth is getting fuller by the second. Two figures kneel beside him.

"Can you stand?" One of them asks.

Yuri opens his mouth only to immediately cover it when blood trickles past his teeth.

The other person, who he can now recognize as a medic, presses gauze into his hand to catch the blood. The three of them manage to get him up and off the ice. Embarrassment floods Yuri's body as he realizes the gravity of the situation.

Lilia's in front of him the second he steps off the ice, barking orders at one of the other medics. The other skaters stare at him in horror and one of the new skaters is in tears; he assumes they're the one who caused this.

He's taken to the locker room to get patched up. Despite the shaking of his muscles, he looks at Lilia with clear eyes.

"Did I bleed on my costume?" He asks.

"No, your costume is fine, how do you feel?" She puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Cold." He says. He can't stop shaking even once the medic has finished wrapping the wound on his head and begins examining his mouth.

He's not even really in pain, or at least, he doesn't think he's in pain. The medic tells him he bit through his cheek but that he should be okay.

"What do you want to do?" Lilia asks sitting beside him, her hand squeezes his leg as she speaks.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you still want to skate?"

"Of course, I still want to skate." Yuri responds effortlessly.

"He should really be seen by a doctor. That cut's pretty bad." The medic says wearily. "I'd say have him wait for a little bit and then make a decision."

"Certainly." Lilia responds.

"I want to skate." Yuri says, even when he glances at his hands and sees how red they are.

"Take a moment to breathe, Yurachka, your adrenaline is still high." Lilia tells him. She stands up and grabs his jacket from his bag. She drapes it over his shoulders and rubs his arms to warm him up a touch.

The two of them are left in the locker room, Lilia helps him to the bathroom to clean up. His reflection startles him, his head is almost cartoonishly wrapped up in bandages and his eyes are entirely unfocused. He can't stop shaking and the pain continues to wash over him in cycles.

Lilia starts speaking to him, gentle encouragements that he only half hears. She says something about it being okay if he wants to pull out of the competition, but she'll support whatever decision he makes. The pain is definitely present, but he convinces himself that it's manageable if nothing else.

A representative from the division approaches them after ten or so minutes, asking if he's going to compete. Yuri says yes; Lilia looks uncertain but doesn't interject her opinion. When the official leaves, Lilia looks at Yuri with a stern gaze.

"If you're competing you need to warm up, but nothing too strenuous." He nods in response, ignoring her hand and standing on his own.

He rejoins the other competitors in the hallway, where they stare at him with a mixture of fear and worry. Yuri ignores that too, and instead reminds himself that he didn't get all of his warmup time on the ice. That motivates him to focus on keeping his body moving.

"Um…" A small voice interrupts his stretching.

"What?" Yuri asks the feeble new skater.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry I didn't realize where I was going and I got out of control and I-"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it." Yuri cuts off their sputtering apology.

"Really?"

"Really, now leave me alone." Yuri rolls his eyes.

"Thank you! I promise it'll never happen again!" The skater scrambles back to their coach.

"That was nice of you." Phichit says with a smile.

"Pft. Whatever." Yuri dismisses him.

"It was, and I'm glad you're alright."

Yuri doesn't respond to that. He closes his eyes and fights off the sharp pang in the back of his head. He has to focus; this competition has to prove that he's still the world's best skater. Besides, there's no way he's in worse shape than Nikolai, he has nothing to complain about.

He hears Lilia on the phone and the sounds of the program currently being performed through the walls of the rink. His heartbeat still hasn't regulated since his fall, the taste of blood is still prominent on his tongue; but that doesn't matter, none of it does. He has to perform.

"Yurachka, Yakov wants to talk to you." Lilia offers him her phone.

"Not interested," Yuri says, continuing to stretch.

"It's not a question," she says, shoving her phone into his hand.

"What the hell are you thinking! You're injured! You're absolutely NOT performing!"

"Yes I am."

"You are not."

"Fuck off."

"Don't you dare speak to me that way!"

"Whatever old man." Yuri holds the phone back out to Lilia.

She sighs, "Yuri-"

"It's my choice and I'm skating." Yuri states definitively.

She takes back the phone and proceeds to hang up on Yakov. "You need to think about this."

"I have." Yuri declares. His ears start ringing with an annoyingly high-pitched sound.

"There are other competitions. You don't have to do this."

"I want to, okay?"

Lilia shakes her head but says nothing more. Yuri tries to ignore how shaky he feels on his feet. He closes his eyes and attempts to block out the world entirely. He thinks about his grandfather lying in a hospital bed and his mother somewhere in Mexico marrying another man. He thinks about how lonely he is, how skating is all he has.

He's called back to the ice before he can fully gather himself. Lilia keeps a hand on his back as they enter the arena. He watches the end of Phichit's free skate and even nods along with the beat. The energy of the piece fills Yuri up with anticipation for his own routine.

Once the Thai skater exits the ice Lilia leans in close to Yuri.

"Remember, you only have to place, then you'll have a little over a month to rest," she assures him.

Yuri nods before circling the rink. He can do this, he has so much to prove.

When the music starts, Yuri can feel the cadence fill him up. He moves as if nothing has happened, as if he feels entirely stable on his skates. Even if he can still feel the trembling of his fingers, he's certain the audience doesn't notice.

He changes his first triple Axel into a double, just to see if he really can land the jump. His skate lands perfectly onto the ice and he breathes a sigh of relief. He can do this, he can do this without a shadow of a doubt.

There's still a voice in the back of his head, one that doubts his ability to complete the program. It seems to create a jolt of pain behind his eyes as he begins his sit spin. Yuri knows he only has another minute left, but he's exhausted already. The pain in his head rushes to his ears with every rotation and he's suddenly very worried.

In spite of that he soldiers on, moving fluidly through every motion. He skates with every last ounce of energy in his body, he skates like his life depends on it.

Finally, he reaches the last jump in the program, despite his fatigue he shoots for a quad Sal. He regrets the decision instantly, even before he lands incorrectly. Something about the take off feels wrong and the snap he feels in his ankle confirms that theory.

He overcorrects his landing but the pain rips through him like a hurricane ravages a coastline. Oh god, does it hurt. Oh GOD, he just fucked up bad. Oh no…

He manages to conclude his routine, still trying to process what might have happened. His left ankle is absolutely on fire, the ripples of acute pain nearly overshadow his headache. He attempts to stand from his kneeling position but the sharp stab in his ankle prevents him from standing.

Yuri makes eye contact with Lilia and shakes his head. Her eyes widen and she turns over her shoulder to shout at someone. Yuri grips his ankle; the contact doesn't cause him any additional pain so he concludes it can't be too bad. Sure, he isn't a doctor, but the thought makes him feel better.

Phichit skates to him, and his concern plastered face makes Yuri cringe.

"Give me your hand," he instructs.

Yuri complies, reaching up and straightening his posture.

"You're going to be alright; you had a great skate," Phichit assures him, guiding him off the ice.

"I'm gonna be sick," Yuri concludes. The overwhelming pain and culmination of nerves finally settling in his gut.

He vaguely hears Phichit call for help but he's entirely too focused on not being sick all over the ice. He's able to keep it together until he comes off of the ice. Lilia's there, he's aware of that, and she sweeps him up in her arms as soon as he's finished vomiting into the bucket placed before him.

She takes him into the locker room and lays him out on one of the benches before swiftly removing his skates. Yuri doesn't feel like he's present in the world, his mind is somewhere else and his body trembles like he's stuck in a snowbank.

Lilia's face is close to his, he can hear her voice oscillate between harsh frantic instruction and sweet hushed encouragement. He incoherently sputters broken phrases at her.

"Mama… what happened?" he hears himself say.

"You got hurt. An ambulance is coming, angel."

"Why?"

"You hurt yourself, do you know what happened?"

"It snapped."

"What snapped?"

He can feel his teeth chattering and his vision begins to swirl. What did happen? Where is he? How did he get here again?

There's a minute of quiet around him. Sweet blissful quiet fills him up before he wakes up in the back of an ambulance. They speak to him in English but his muddled brain can't figure out how to wrap his tongue around the words.

The flurry of activity in the hospital is overwhelming. Honestly, it's a good thing Yuri is so out of it. At least this way he can't give the doctors a hard time.

Turns out, he dislocated his ankle and then immediately realigned the joint in the span of ten seconds. The doctor says this isn't uncommon but he's impressed nonetheless. He's given a boot, crutches, and an ironclad order not to skate for at least two weeks. He so distracted by that last point, Yuri almost completely misses the part where he has three stitches for the cut on his head.

Lilia doesn't scold him when she collects him from the hospital. In fact, she brushes his hair back gingerly with her fingertips and tells him that everything will be okay.

He got second, all things considered, that's something he should be proud of. Even if his pride is a little wounded by the thought.

At the hotel, Yuri sees Phichit and Emil chatting in the lobby. Yuri's face flushes with embarrassment as they wave him down.

"Hey! Are you okay?" Phichit asks.

Yuri sighs as Lilia hails the elevator. "Yeah… I'm fine."

"That's good to hear, you did great." Emil gives him a thumbs up.

"When you get the chance, you should call Yuuri. He's been texting me for awhile now. He's pretty beside himself with worry." Phichit informs him.

Yuri nods, entering the elevator after Lilia.

"Get better soon!" the two skaters declare before the doors close.

"You should call Yuuri and Yakov for that matter. Once you're cleaned up, of course," Lilia agrees.

"They have flights soon. Isn't it the ass crack of morning in China?"

"Still." Lilia helps him off the elevator once they reach their floor.

Yuri doesn't respond. He's too proud to admit he wants to make that phone call. He's hurt all over and his adrenaline has left him feeling hung over.

He takes a bath instead of a shower, even if the pinkish hue of the water unsettles him. He doesn't think he could stand that long, and anyway, he wants to soak his sore ankle. Frankly, he can't believe this is all happening to him. He can't believe his whole life really does just continue to deteriorate.

When he lifts himself out of the bath he hoists himself up on the counter. His ankle is a myriad of dark colors and swollen to an absurd degree. With a sigh, he dries the skin as best as he's able before slipping on a sock and returning his ankle to the boot.

He sits on his bed for a few moments. His eyes are unfocused as they shift from the ceiling to the wall, contemplating what the fuck he's going to do now. His flight isn't until tomorrow morning, but he figures he should eat given the late hour and the… earlier incident. A chill runs through him at the memory, had a camera been pointed at him while he was sick?

Finally, he reaches over to his nightstand and pulls out his phone. There's hardly one full cycle of the telltale ringing before the other line picks up.

"Yuri? Oh my god-"

"Hey." Yuri interrupts his boyfriend's panic, "How are you?"

"How am I!? How are you!? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm all stitched up, even got cleared to fly out tomorrow."

Otabek lets out a sigh of relief. "And your injuries? Are they bad?"

"No, of course not."

"Yuri." His tone is one of warning annoyance.

"It's not that bad. Just a few stitches I promise."

"What about your foot? Knee? Whatever part of you meant you couldn't stand up at the end of your program?"

"It's minor, doctor says I'll make a full recovery in a couple of weeks." Yuri smiles at the sound Otabek makes.

"You scared me half to death."

"So, you saw it happen then?"

"Yeah, of course I did."

"Wasn't it like midnight for you?"

"Two a.m. to be exact but who's counting?" Otabek chuckles.

"Not you, I take it." Yuri sighs, "And you're still up?"

"Well… didn't make much sense to go to bed after that. I have a flight to catch you know."

"Oh, shit sorry. I can go."

"Don't you dare." Otabek warns. "I want to make sure you're okay."

"I am. Really, I am. I'm embarrassed but I'm okay."

"Why are you embarrassed?"

"Did you completely miss the part where I vomited on live tv? Because if so, I love you."

"You couldn't help that."

"Still felt pretty terrible."

"I know… You said you're cleared to fly?"

"Yeah. One of the only things I didn't completely ruin."

"You didn't ruin anything."

"Well, I did ruin my ankle… temporarily but I did."

"Okay fine, you win."

"I should go, Lilia will pitch a fit if I don't eat."

Otabek chuckles, "So will I. Call Viktor and Yuuri, by the way. They're worried about you. Okay?"

"Alright yeah. I'll call them."

"Good. I love you, kitten."

"I love you too, Beka. Have a safe flight."

Yuri contemplates going down to the hotel restaurant before calling his hosts. Instead, he swallows his pride and calls Viktor. Once again, the phone barely rings before being answered.

"Yurachka." Viktor's voice is warm and calm, sparking something like longing in Yuri's throat. "Please tell me you're alright. I need to hear you say it."

"I'm alright, Vitya," Yuri sighs.

"Yurio! It's good to hear from you." Yuuri's voice sounds a bit distant.

"You're on speaker." Viktor informs him, "Yakov is on the phone with Lilia, but we're glad to hear from you."

"I take it you were watching too."

"Yes, we did. That looked like a nasty fall, are you sure you're alright?" Yuuri frets.

"I'm fine."

"What did the doctor say?" Viktor asks.

"He said I'll be fine in a few weeks. I'm cleared to fly and I have a referral for when I get back."

"And your injuries?" Viktor's tone is pointed, as if he knows Yuri is keeping something.

"It's not a big deal," Yuri starts, his hand reaching up to clutch his father's cross. "I got a few stitches and I have to keep them clean."

"And?"

"It's just a mild concussion."

"And?"

"… I dislocated my ankle."

"Ouch." He can practically hear Yuuri cringe through his voice.

"It's not severe or anything, it's back in place and there's no permanent damage."

"Oh Yurachka," Viktor sighs and Yuri nearly cries at the sound.

Disappointment. Viktor is disappointed in him.

"Why did you skate after you got hurt the first time?" Viktor asks. "That was entirely irresponsible."

"I didn't think it was that bad," Yuri claims weakly.

"You couldn't get off the ice," Viktor counters.

"I thought I could handle it and I wanted to what's so wrong with that?" Yuri spits.

"You got hurt, that's what's wrong with it," Viktor reminds him gently.

Yuri doesn't respond for a moment. "I know."

"When you get back, we'll take you to the doctor and then you're on strict bedrest until further notice," Viktor tells him bluntly.

"Is that what Yakov said?" Yuri shifts uncomfortably.

"That's what I am saying. I'm in charge of you, you're my responsibility."

"Okay," Yuri relents weakly.

"Good. We love you, alright? Take care of yourself."

"Sure."

"Get some rest and make sure you eat something," Viktor continues to dote.

"Alright dad I get it," Yuri bites back.

"I love you, son." Viktor's smile can be heard through the phone before he hangs up.

Yuri ignores the surge of warmth in his chest when the call ends. He grabs his bag and starts packing to go home. Eventually Lilia comes to his room and demands he eat dinner. Phichit and Emil insist on sitting with them; at least they do him the courtesy of distracting him from the incident instead of doting.

Phichit got a gold medal out of it, so maybe he feels a little bad in that regard. Still, it's a nice enough dinner. Even Seung stops by their table with a brief, "I'm glad you're fine."

All in all, it's a nice evening that leads into a terrible night. His pain killers wear off sometime around one in the morning, and the throbbing pain is so intense he wakes up in tears. After ten minutes of struggling, he manages to pull himself out of bed to take his next dose.

Then he has a flash of anxiety as he contemplates whether or not the medication has something that will stick in his system. What if he gets pulled from the next competition because of some ISU illegal substance he isn't aware he's taking? His sleep addled, mildly concussed brain hyper fixates on the intrusive thought, keeping him awake for the next three hours.

By then it's time to head to the airport. Lilia comments on his haggard appearance, and when his response isn't satisfactory she fusses over him, directing him around the terminal like she should be down on the tarmac. Despite the copious amount of painkillers he's on, his headache doesn't go away and he definitely feels warm.

Lilia tells him in no uncertain terms that he's going to sleep on their flight. That and if his fever doesn't go down she'll have no choice but to drag him to the hospital the second they're back in Saint Petersburg.

It's a long flight followed by a long layover and yet another long flight. Yuri's ears are full of pressure, his foot is aching, and he generally feels like he'd rather be dead than spend another forty minutes in the car. Let alone go to another hospital. Just kill me now.

When their second flight finally lands Yuri lets himself relax; it's been a long day but at least it's almost over. The two of them wait for everyone else to exit the plane with the flight attendant bringing him his crutches as soon as the aisle is clear.

The pair get through customs without issue and soon they are reunited with Yakov, Yuuri, and Viktor all of whom give him painfully sad looks.

"Welcome back, how was your flight?" Yuuri asks him as Yakov, Lilia, and Viktor have a side conversation.

"Fine." Yuri responds.

"You don't look so good, are you feeling alright?" Yuuri places one very cold hand against Yuri's forehead.

Yuri cringes at the contact, "I'm fine."

"You're burning up."

"It's nothing." Yuuri gives him a pointed look before attempting to extract the backpack off of the teenager. Yuri allows him to take it, mostly because it feels good to be alleviated of the extra weight.

Yuuri puts his hand on Yuri's back, "Viktor, I'll take him to the car, okay? You grab his bags."

The older skater hands his husband the keys to their car and gives Yuri one more sad look before they depart.

"You know, in spite of everything, you gave a phenomenal performance and you should be proud of yourself," Yuuri tells him as they reach the car.

"I gave a second-place performance," Yuri corrects him, sliding into the backseat.

"While you were injured. Most people couldn't do that on their best days." Yuuri closes the door and rounds the car. He reappears on the other side and sits beside him in the backseat. "I mean it, Yurio. I'm very proud of you, even if you aren't."

Yuri sighs in response. He decides it's for the best if they leave the conversation there. Instead of speaking, Yuri lays across Yuuri's lap and closes his eyes for a moment.

"Oh…" Yuuri muses before threading his fingers through Yuri's hair. "It's okay, baby, just rest. We'll get you home."

And Yuri does manage to fall into a semi-restful state. He can hear Yuuri and Viktor talk about him, at least in bits and pieces. When the car stops, Yuri thinks about rousing himself fully, but Viktor cradles him before he can commit to anything. He allows himself to be carried to bed, if for no other reason than because he's too exhausted to care.

And maybe, just maybe, he likes that they care. Just a little bit.

Ignorance is blindness

They're the ones who stand to lose

His recovery is going significantly better than he had expected. With the year he's having, he's surprised that for once something is going totally according to plan. Viktor and Yuuri have even allowed him to visit his grandfather while they're at practice. Nikolai has only been awake for a few days now, a fact that makes Yuri's recovery that much better.

He reads to him, different things really. Somedays it's a novel or the bible, other days it's a trashy magazine from the waiting room. Regardless, the time they have together feels monumental and a bit like a gift.

"Yurachka," Nikolai interrupts Yuri's reading.

"Da?"

"How are you feeling?"

Yuri marks their place before responding. "I'm alright. Hopefully I'll get this boot off soon."

"And… How do you feel about your living situation?"

"It's fine, Yuuri and Viktor look after me well. Why?"

"I've been thinking…" Nikolai takes his grandson's hand. "Once I leave here, I want you to stay with them."

"Why? You shouldn't be living by yourself," Yuri says.

"No, but I will have help. My doctors want me to have a nurse come by to help me. You shouldn't have to do that, and I don't want you to."

"So… you're saying-"

"You can keep your room at my apartment, but I want you to stay with Nikiforov. It will be better this way."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not turning you away, Yuri. I just want you to have more independence from me. I don't want to be an obstacle between you and your happiness."

"You aren't an obstacle, grandpa. I love you, taking care of you isn't a burden or anything."

"I appreciate you saying that, but we both know it isn't true." Nikolai squeezes his hand. "I'm an old man and you are young. You should have a life outside caring for me."

Yuri nods slowly. "Fine, but… you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"I still expect you to come see me."

"And you'll cook, yeah?"

"Of course." Nikolai raises his hand to cup Yuri's cheek. "You've been very strong, Yurachka. I love you so much."

"I love you too." Yuri receives a text then. Viktor and Yuuri are on their way to get him. "I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

"I look forward to it." Nikolai nods.

Yuri picks himself up, grabs his crutches, and kisses his grandfather's cheeks before exiting the room.

It's a nice day outside, the autumn air present for perhaps the last day of the year. The sun is bright and warm on Yuri's cheeks as he sits on a bench in front of the hospital. He texts Otabek about how excited he is to start practicing again. It should be soon, within the week if his progress keeps up.

A gentle breeze ruffles his hair, and the fresh air fills his lungs. He feels like a cat who's found a particularly comfortable patch of sunlight to nap under. It's peaceful, which is more than he can usually say.

"Oh my god! You're Yuri Plisetsky, right?" Yuri looks up to see a young girl, around his age or younger, beaming at him.

"Uh-"

"I watch you skate all the time! Oh my god, can I have your autograph!?"

Yuri swallows thickly, "Yeah, sure."

She shoves what looks like her diary at him. "I saw your Skate America performance, it was incredible. You're so amazing!"

Yuri quickly signs the journal and hands it back to her. "Uh… thanks."

"Thank you! I hope your recovery is going well. Are you still going to compete?"

"Yeah…" Yuri feels a blush tinting his nose.

"I can't wait! Good luck." She gives him one last eager smile before rejoining a pair of people, her parents probably, and entering the hospital.

If one fan interaction is shocking, it is absolutely astounding that before he knows it, he is surrounded by paparazzi. Where they came from, he doesn't have a clue but in an instant he's drowning in photographers. He wonders if it's a slow news day (do tabloids have those?) or if he missed some kind of memo. The latter seems to be true when the barrage of questions begin.

"Is it true you're dating fellow competitor, Otabek Altin?"

"How long have you been seeing each other?"

"Are your coaches aware of the relationship?"

"How does he feel about you being disowned?"

"Will you be taking the rest of the season off due to ongoing medical concerns?"

"Is your recent loss at Skate America indicative of an early retirement?"

Yuri grabs his crutches but can't find the room to get away. Fuck having crutches, if he were more mobile he might be able to slip through the crowd. Instead, he finds the swarm of photographers to be an impenetrable force. His chest gets tight and he wonders if there's a way out of this. What's he going to do? How is he going to get away?

"Get away from him!" A commanding voice soars over the group. The cameras turn towards the source of the shout, one furious looking Viktor Nikiforov.

"Viktor how-"

"I said get away from my son. Move!" Viktor breaks through the crowd and corrals Yuri into his car.

The cameras continue to snap photos and the questions never once stop, but Viktor manages to drive away.

Yuuri turns around from the passenger side. "Are you okay, Yurio?"

Yuri grips his seat belt, "How did they find out?"

"Find out what, baby?"

"About Otabek? We've… We've been careful."

"I'm not sure… Maybe someone said something or some twitter thread got out of hand. I'm not sure."

"Fuck… Fuck!" Yuri hides his face in his hands.

"It's okay."

"It's not okay!" Yuri snaps, "It's not okay, Katsudon, now he's going to leave me!"

Yuuri furrows his brows at him while Viktor gives a confused glance over his shoulder.

"What do you mean he's going to leave you?"

"He… He doesn't want this kind of attention." Yuri's voice trembles as he says it.

"That doesn't mean-"

"He's going to leave me and it's all my fault." Yuri feels the sob stick in his throat, "And maybe he should dump me, god only knows nothing good comes from being with me."

"Stop the car." Yuuri instructs Viktor. When he doesn't immediately comply Yuuri smacks his arm and snips at him, "Stop the car."

Viktor pulls over; Yuuri immediately unbuckles and climbs into the backseat. Once he's settled Viktor returns to their route.

Yuuri takes Yuri's face in his hands. "Listen to me. Regardless of whether or not your relationship ends, you are a wonderful person. You are a talented skater and you have a kind heart that has taken an absolute beating this year. Almost everything that has happened to you this year has happened to you. You are not at fault."

"But-"

"Whatever happens, you have Viktor and me. We see you as our son and we love you so much. We will be here for you no matter how many boyfriends you have, injuries you sustain, or nervous breakdowns you need to have. We love you and you deserve to be loved. Okay?"

Yuri starts crying then, it feels very public even if the car is moving. He feels exposed, like his still beating heart is out of his chest and sitting on his lap.

"How am I supposed to survive this?" he asks. It's a question that's been weighing on him ever since his grandfather first fell. "How am I meant to keep going through all of this garbage?"

"Because you have us. Viktor, Yakov, Lilia, me. You have us to support you and we will if you let us."

"I love him," he admits, "I don't want him to leave me."

"He's not going to leave you." The car stops and Yuri knows they're back home.

"I'm scared he will anyway. Just like grandpa did, just like my mom and my dad. Everyone always leaves me. Even Viktor did when he left to train you," Yuri chokes out. The little boy inside of him has finally clawed his way out of his throat to admit the one thing he's been too afraid to feel.

Being abandoned is hard; it doesn't matter who's leaving, it's hard all the same. But Viktor chose him, years ago he deemed him worthy of attention and promised to reward him for excellence. It still wasn't enough because Viktor left; right when he was about to claim his prize he was forgotten. Yuri was used to being tossed aside but it still hurt. It hurt then and the wound has only festered until now.

Viktor pauses, looking back at him. "Oh, Yurachka."

"I didn't do enough and I'll never be enough and that's okay I just wish everyone would fucking say it." Yuri clutches his head to keep it from bursting.

Viktor has exited the car and is now on his other side, hugging him from behind.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Viktor says, kissing the back of Yuri's head. "I never meant to."

Yuri keeps crying, his voice becoming hoarse as he speaks. "Why does everyone leave me?"

"We won't. We're not going to leave you," Viktor assures him.

"Life hasn't let up on you recently and that's okay. It sucks but it's okay. Being a teenager is hard and you're doing the best you can. You will get through this." Yuuri takes his hands and squeezes them.

"When will it stop?" Yuri asks.

"I don't know." Yuuri admits, "What I do know is that you are free to cry and scream as much as you want. You're allowed to feel like the world is against you so long as you know that we are on your team. You're not alone."

Yuri sniffles weakly.

"We should get you inside before those reporters catch up," Yuuri instructs.

"Besides, I think Potya has been missing her cuddles." Viktor pats his shoulder.

Yuri nods meekly, allowing the pair to lead him inside. Once they're up in the apartment Yuri sits on the couch and Potya hops up on his lap as if she were given a heads-up beforehand. Purrs and all she smothers him in affection while Viktor props up Yuri's foot.

Yuuri sets to work in the kitchen, throwing together dinner while his husband flips through the channels. They've developed this sort of routine where they eat dinner and watch tv together. Usually, it's a quiet unspoken affair, one where Yuri isn't in tears. Now it feels like a promise, like they are ensuring that Yuri knows how serious they are.

His phone rings about halfway through the ritual and Yuri stares in terror at Otabek's name.

"Do you want us to go?" Viktor asks.

"No." Yuri surprises himself with the answer, "Just… don't go."

The pair cuddled up on the other half of the couch nod and wait for him to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, so weird question. Did you get harassed by a bunch of tabloid photographers today?"

"Yeah, I-"

"Okay, great, because I am currently hiding in a café bathroom waiting for my mom to come get me. I'm pretty sure I'm having a panic attack or this is just how it feels to be a teenager. In which case, damn, I am so glad I never went to public school."

Yuri laughs, "I'm sorry."

"Did you post anything?"

Panic swells in Yuri's chest, "No! Of course not, I promised I wouldn't."

"Good, just checking, I didn't either. God, I can't believe this." Otabek lets out a nervous chuckle.

"I'm sorry, Beka. Really I am."

"Is this what you go through, like, constantly?!"

"Well, constantly is a bit of a stretch."

"No wonder you're always on edge, this is a nightmare!"

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe, right?"

"For now. If the press break through and kill me, you get my skates."

"Don't," Yuri warns him.

"At least my last moments are with my incredible boyfriend, promise me you'll never date again."

"Stop, you're going to be okay."

"Am I? My chest kind of hurts. Like a lot."

"You're just getting anxious, breathe."

Otabek takes a deep breath, "Seriously, how do you live like this?"

"Very poorly, as you've seen." Yuri chuckles.

"No, you handle this kind of stuff a lot better than me."

"You get used to it."

"I guess I'll have to." Otabek sighs, clearly still trying to get a grip on his breathing.

"I'm so sorry this happened."

"Not your fault. Just how it is."

"You're not mad?"

"Of course I'm not mad. If I'm going to date a world champion, better yet if I become one, I need to get used to it. Right?"

Yuri smirks, "Sure."

"Hey, now that it's out we should… post something about it. You know, take back the narrative or whatever."

"Are you sure your palpitating heart can handle that?"

"Only if it's your fault it's… what was that word? Palpitating?"

"Yeah, that." Yuri snorts, "I love you."

"Good, because I'm a wreck right now. I'm so glad you can't see me."

"I wish I could," Yuri tells him.

"I'd never live it down."

"You've seen me in much worse shape, I promise."

"You don't get it. I'm all blotchy and sweaty. I might even be sick."

"I will remind you, you watched me vomit on live tv."

"For a good reason! You were severely injured." Otabek chuckles through his frantic breaths.

"You have a good reason too, panic fucks people up."

"Yeah but-"

"I'm here, okay? And I love you."

"I love you too."

"Good." Yuri feels a weight lift off of his shoulders hearing that. "How did practice go?"

"Good, it was good. I'm so going to win the NHK, the final is going to be insane."

"Yeah, it is."

"Oh, hey. My mom said she's here."

"Good, go calm down. Take a bath or something."

"Or something."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Yuri hangs up with a whisper of a smile still on his lips. Yuuri and Viktor don't say anything, instead they unmute the tv and continue to eat as if nothing happened.

Yuri, instead, posts a picture of him and Otabek snuggled up in his old bed at his grandfather's apartment. The caption reads: My favorite skater 3

The first (well second only to Phichit, which basically means first) to like the photo is Otabek. Yuuri checks his phone during their meal and smiles at it before showing Viktor.

"I take it he's doing well," Viktor comments.

"Yeah…"

"Good."

"Yeah." Yuri puts his phone on his chest.

A warmth bubbles up inside of him, and not the horrible kind he's been combatting for months now. It's the kind of warm that reminds him that love matters, and more than that, he is loved.

It's a good feeling, one he holds onto as tightly as he can manage.

They don't even know you

All they see is scars

Being back on the ice feels good, more than that it feels right. After three and a half weeks he's finally been allowed back into the rink. He's been tired of doing his off-ice practices and light conditioning. He slips back into the rhythm of skating like others slide into their favorite pair of jeans.

Even if Yakov (and Lilia, and Viktor, and Yuuri, and Otabek) insist he take it easy on his first day back, he's just happy to be there. For the first time in a long time, he feels like skating can solve all of his problems, and hell maybe it has.

He's been explicitly forbidden from jumping by his coach, and he doesn't care. It shocks him how little he cares to be kept from one of his favorite elements. Still, he's happy in an effortless sort of way. The mindless meandering of figures brings him a sense of calm.

It's like he's reclaiming his love of the ice.

Yakov calls him back before he's skated for half an hour. He claims Yuri still has time before his next competition and he doesn't want him overexerting himself.

The fact that Yuri doesn't protest is an incredible feat. The fact that he listens to Yuuri's insistence that he continue to use his crutches is downright unbelievable. As he's changing back into his street clothes Viktor approaches him.

"And you're sure you don't want me to drive you? It's not very far."

"You have ballet," Yuri says. "And I'll be fine."

"But it's icy today and I don't want you to get hurt. Besides, I don't mind being late."

"Don't tell Lilia that."

"I can always-"

"I'll be fine, Viktor. Promise. I'll be home by seven."

"Okay, well, I love you. Be safe."

"I will, see you later." Yuri picks himself up. For the first time in a while he realizes how much taller he is now. He and Viktor are almost the same height; Yuuri's even a fraction of an inch shorter than him. It's strange, he used to feel so small in the world and sure he still does from time to time. He's not the upstart kid he used to be, even if he's not fully ready to call himself a man just yet.

He leaves the locker room and rolls his eyes after receiving a hug from Viktor.

Getting to the train station is a lot more difficult on crutches than it usually is, but the route is familiar as the cold. Yuri loves the cold, the biting chill that is decidedly Russian. It's not the same in other parts of the world, this kind of cold feels stronger and less forgiving.

Even with a lack of snowfall, the frosty winds seep into his skin and cradle his bones. The cold crisp kisses across his cheeks can only be found in his home country.

He sits on the train and flips through his phone, his eyes catching on several articles about him.

International Champion Still on Thin Ice!?Read About His Ongoing Injuries from Skate America

HIS LAST WORDS: What Yuri Plisetsky Said at His Grandfather's Deathbed

Is This Love or Lust on Ice?

They make him laugh, mostly. The headlines all about his beautifully tragic life are getting more and more comical the further away he gets from them. Now that his foot is mostly healed, he feels like himself again.

He hobbles up the stairs of the old Soviet building, he even stops to greet Lena on his way up. She tells him that she dropped off some plov with Nikolai and she wants to know how he likes it.

When he does arrive at his grandfather's apartment he takes in a breath before opening the door.

"Grandpa?"

"Yuri! I'm in the kitchen. I made pirozhky."

Yuri removes his shoes and enters the kitchen. The two embrace before Yuri is ushered to sit.

"You look good today, Grandpa. You're taking your medicines on time?"

"Now don't you start with me," Nikolai chides him. "I have a nurse for that, you're here to enjoy my cooking."

"I can still ask," Yuri chuckles.

"You're also the one who's still limping around on those crutches. Now, what do you want to drink?"

Yuri allows his grandfather to bustle about the kitchen while he eats his weight in traditional foods. As grateful as he is for Yuuri and Viktor, nobody cooks like Nikolai.

"So, your competition is soon, yes?"

"Yeah, in Sochi."

"And will your Beka be there?" he asks with a smile.

"No, he's going to be in France for the final though."

"That's a shame, you should tell him to move here. Yuuri did for Vitya, why can't he?"

"Because Katsudon and Vitya are married, Grandpa," Yuri chuckles.

"Well, I don't see why he can't move here before you get married."

"I'll tell him you said that. Although, he might suggest I move to Kazakhstan instead."

"Over my dead body," Nikolai laughs. "I'm glad you're happy, Yuri. He does make you happy, yes?"

"He makes me very happy."

"Good, good." There's a knock at the door and Yuri takes the opportunity to text Otabek.

We have to get married now. Grandpa wants you to move to Russia so sorry not sorry.

First of all, adorable. Second, we're only moving in together if Viktor and Yuuri have their own apartment. This is non-negotiable.

"Yuri! We brought vodka!" Viktor holds up the bottle as he enters the kitchen.

"Why? We have plenty," Yuri chuckles, turning to face him.

"We thought we'd have a little welcome home party for Nikolai!" Viktor takes a seat and squishes next to Yuri.

"I brought cake, was that too much?" Yuuri asks as he's ushered into the kitchen by Nikolai.

"No, no, not at all! Let me get you a plate. Tea? Kompot? Uzvar?" Nikolai takes the cake and the vodka from his guests.

"Here, let me help," Yuuri insists, reaching into the top cupboard for smaller plates.

"We got out of rehearsal early, I hope you don't mind." Viktor smiles at Yuri.

"I guess I don't," Yuri says with amusement.

"Great!" Viktor squeezes him into a hug.

Yet another instance of Yuri giving in to others. Giving into affection.

This time, however, he doesn't just accept it. He revels in the love that's given to him. Most importantly of all, he doesn't apologize for the love he takes.

They don't see the angel

Living in your heart

The Grand Prix Final is two days away. Yuri managed to secure a spot at the final with a silver medal at the Rostelecom Cup just behind Viktor. The final six are very similar to last year's lineup. Viktor, Yuuri, Phichit, Otabek, Yuri, and Christophe; frankly it feels kind of like a family reunion might. Given the unlikely notion that a family actually likes each other.

Practice has a stiff competitive air to it. All six of the competitors have been enveloped in the nervous energy that only a final can bring. However, once all is said and done, Phichit has put together a group chat and filled their schedules with sightseeing ideas.

Otabek texts Yuri on the side: Yeah so… fuck that we're going to the harbor instead.

Yuri chuckles and slips away from Viktor long enough to find his boyfriend just outside the hotel.

"I don't know how you get away with renting a motorbike when we're getting ready for competition." Yuri chuckles, kissing Otabek.

"Because my coach isn't a bitch like Yakov."

"I guess you're right," Yuri says, throwing on a helmet and climbing onto the bike.

"Yuri! Where are you going!?" Viktor calls from the steps of the hotel.

"See you at dinner!" Yuri promises as they ride off.

"I bet you're grounded now," Otabek laughs.

"Totally worth it," Yuri says as he hugs his boyfriend tighter.

They zip in and out of traffic until they come upon the docks. There's a bustling market that begins to light up as the sun sets across the Mediterranean. Yuri and Otabek lace their fingers together, walking through the different gazebos and commenting on things they'd fill their apartment with.

"That table's cute."

"It'd be a nightmare to clean with the mosaic. This painting, however."

"We are not hanging abstract art on our walls, who do you think we are?"

"Fine, what about this apron though? Could you see me making pirozhky in it?"

"Definitely. What about this for the living room?"

They laugh and talk about a life worth building together. Yuri sees a world of possibility in the eyes of his favorite Kazak, he sees the life they could have. It's a beautiful life full of laughter and skating. Maybe even travel if they really commit themselves to coaching or sports health or whatever the fuck skaters do when they retire.

All Yuri knows is that he never wants to stop seeing the world with Otabek. He never wants to stop laughing and shopping for totally unnecessary things. He never wants to stop feeling blissfully happy. He's endured enough sadness, he's ready to be happy.

"Hey, look." Otabek gestures towards the center of the market. There's a fountain in front of an incredible church and a cellist playing a sweet melody.

"Do you want to dance?" Yuri asks, noticing a few other couples starting to filter in.

"I'm leading," Otabek declares.

"Sure," Yuri chuckles, letting his boyfriend sweep him into a swaying half waltz. "Are you having fun?"

"Oh yeah, you?"

"Definitely." Yuri agrees, "It's been a long year."

"Yeah, it has."

"It was worth it, to get here I mean. Not sure I'd do it all over again, but the first time through I think it all turned out okay."

"I'm so glad."

"You were right, you know. When you said that my shoes would fit one day, that my growing pains would stop, and that everything would get better. You were right."

"I like hearing that."

"I love you for saying those things to me."

"Anytime." Otabek begins to blush.

"Thanks for sticking by me, through everything."

"I'd do it all over again, and I'm going to keep doing it."

"I love you."

"I love you too, kitten."

The two of them kiss, the swell of the music harmonizes with the sound of the sea lapping at the dock behind them. The other couples fade away and soon it's just the two of them. An imperfect world is left behind for a better, more complete version of itself. One where the two of them never have to let go and they never have to let heartache enter their sphere.

It's a perfect fantasy that Yuri can't even say is interrupted by Viktor.

"There you guys are! Come on, we're getting dinner now!" Yuri laughs as he looks over at the group of four skaters.

"I just got the sweetest photo of you two! I'm sending it to the group chat." Phichit declares, furiously typing.

"See, I told you, when they're like this he's my son," Christophe drawls as he nudges Yuuri.

"Don't get any ideas, he's my kid through and through," Yuuri teases him back.

"Let's go eat before Baba Viktor has a heart attack." Yuri pulls Otabek after him.

"Yes sir," Otabek chuckles, following his boyfriend.

Something about the camaraderie of his fellow skaters bolsters his image of a perfect world. A place where people care so deeply about him it's almost criminal. All the people he loves doing the one thing that binds them together.

It's such a beautiful dream; Yuri is relieved that he doesn't have to wake up.

Let them find the real you

Buried deep within

"What's your theme for this year's program?"

At the beginning of the season this question hung in the air the way a song ends without a final note. The answer was there, of course, it just felt precarious. Uncertain and not quite right, his answer wasn't fully formed yet. It most certainly didn't fit when it came out of his mouth and he didn't get why then.

Now, he understands.

"My theme this year is Truth."

Let them know with all you've got

That you are not

So, he skates honestly, wholeheartedly, and without any reservations.

Truth is such a difficult thing to capture, it's a rare precious thing that sometimes feels wrong. It's those times, he's learned, when the honesty within feels untrue that it is the most important to listen.

For years he silenced the little boy inside of him. He built up walls and shoved his emotions deeper and deeper inside of himself thinking the well was endless. That if he could just be strong enough he could muscle through any obstacle life threw at him.

It took one single catastrophic year to break him down, it felt like the world simply delighted in torturing him. In seeing him fail and flounder, the universe seemed to have found its new hobby in torturing him. He felt small and empty, he was run ragged completely at his limit.

He gave up in response, his walls collapsed against his will and the people around him had to bear witness to the ugliness inside of him. His scarred and fragile heart was suddenly on display for all to see. He felt more weakness in one year than he's allowed himself to feel in the entirety of his life.

It was shocking when they didn't even flinch. Sure they acknowledged the horror, but they didn't back down. Time and again they got him to his feet, brushed off the dust, and guided him towards the next obstacle.

They even called him strong. More than that, they meant what they said. The people he loves most in this world saw his pain and named him a hero. Someone who survives and is worthy of the love he so desperately craves. His Otabek's words continue to ring true.

He has the eyes of a soldier. His father's eyes. He has a heart that doesn't give up and the track record of his survival to back up the claim. He is strong enough to endure more adversity than most and he knows now just how many incredible people he has in his corner to support him.

His strength makes him incredible even when it alone is not enough.

His strength makes him a champion.

When he sees the score for his free skate he cries. Lilia and Yakov rock him between their excited embraces. He sees his name appear above Viktor's and it all feels so surreal.

He jumps over a few camera men and straight into the arms of an awaiting Viktor. The other competitors cheer and join into a group hug.

Yuuri kisses his cheeks whilst loudly proclaiming, "He did it! He won! My son won!"

Otabek takes his hand and kisses it, trying to avoid getting trampled in the chaos of celebration.

By the time Yakov corrals the winners over to the podium, the crowd is still losing their minds over the performance.

Viktor standing below him on the podium feels wrong in the best of ways. The weight of the gold medal around his neck allows a wash of relief to overcome him. Because fuck whatever else happened to get him here, he did it. He won gold against Viktor, he kept his winning title and he's happy.

So blissfully happy.

Yuuri and Viktor flank him for the official photographs. They laugh triumphantly and hug their son tightly for each flash of the cameras.

Yuri even offers Viktor his gold medal to kiss. Considering his choreography is what got him the medal, it only seems fair.

When they exit the ice, Otabek finally gets his chance to kiss his boyfriend. It's sweet and intoxicating. Like truly everything in the world is perfect.

There isn't a single thing that could ever take this moment away from him.

Your skin

And here's the truth of it all, the one he harbors in his heart and swears to keep forever:

Life goes on, life gets better. It always does.