He Didn't Fix Me, He Gave Me Strength
Written by: SadieAnnabethMellark ( porkcutletbowltrash)
Summary: It's late and Viktor is out drinking by himself trying to self-medicate against the void inside of him. But it's not working. The void is still present, its growing stronger. He was closing in on himself. But yet, Yuuri still loves him.
A story of Viktor's struggle with depression.
o.O.o
"Just leave the bottle, please." He mumbled softly to the bartender in Russian. The man gave him a weary look but when he set his keys on the table to show that he wasn't planning on driving home, the bartender shuffled down the bar to tend to another customer. It was late and Viktor Nikiforov found himself sitting at a run-down bar in the side streets of Saint Petersburg, drinking glass after glass of Żubrówka. Normally, Viktor was a happy type of drunk, the one who liked to take off his clothes after far too many drinks and the perform drunk karaoke to serenade his fiancé. But tonight, he couldn't seem to get drunk enough for that to happen.
He couldn't seem to get drunk enough for the stinging sensation of the alcohol to turn into the warm feeling of emotion inside him.
He took another sip from his glass and stared off into space at the colorful bottles of liquor behind the bar. The lighting from behind them, made them light up into pretty colors that twinkled mesmerizingly in the light. He couldn't quite stop letting his eyes draw towards the colored glass as he let his mind wander; almost like they were keeping him grounded from the vast void inside his chest.
His morning had started out normal. Yuuri had been curled up in the bed next to him, too far away from Viktor's touch for comfort. He had slid over and pulled Yuuri's sleeping body closer to him as he tried to rid the heavy sleepy feeling that occurred when waking up from the comfort of a dream. Comfortingly, he nosed Yuuri's messy bedhead and took in the sweet scent of ocean breeze and cucumber that made up Yuuri's shampoo; he must've showered last night before he crawled in next to Viktor. When he finally was able to drag himself out of bed (and away from his sleeping fiancé) he had turned on the coffee maker for both of them and started going about his normal routine. He'd taken Makkachin for a jog with him that morning and then returned home, a new bouquet of flowers for Yuuri to put in the vase on the table in hand. Yuuri had always laughed at him as he rolled his eyes when Viktor would bring him flowers but nonetheless accepted them with a sweet kiss to Viktor's lips and a soft smile as he looked at the beautiful flowers. Viktor would always tell him that each rose stood for a time that he had been thinking of Yuuri that week.
"I think you got too many flowers, Viktor."
"On the contrary, the florist said that I couldn't by the whole shop and said I'd have to settle for their best bouquet of primroses."
"Vitya, that's ridiculous."
"Ridiculous for you, Yurashka."
The rest of the day had gone as usual: they went to the rink for training and practice, they went to the small café across the street for tea and coffee during their lunch break, and then they went back into the thrall of skating. He wasn't sure when the feeling had crept up on him. Nothing had happened that should have set him in this sort of mood.
He had felt sad…no…not sad. He felt hollow. He wasn't happy, he wasn't sad, he wasn't feeling anything.
Just the hollow shell of a body, operating by a beating pulse and not by his heart.
He was numb.
o.O.o
- Two Years Ago -
Viktor was watching Yuuri skate across the shiny surface of the rink, nothing particular on his mind. He was in one of his unexpected slumps that had occasionally come into his life and it was beginning to frustrate him. They had been prominent the past few years while he had been training in Russia after he had moved to his own apartment. But since he had been in Japan, he couldn't have been happier; he had the same high that he had felt when he won gold.
Yuuri sent himself into a triple flip and over-rotated, causing himself to have to catch himself on the ice. He sighed softly as Yuuri continued on trying to practice his jumps.
Triple Loop.
Over rotated.
Triple Flip.
Under rotated.
Triple Axel.
Wobbly, but he was still on his feet.
He was so set on watching Yuuri, that he had forgotten to shout out advice and encouragement to his skater like he had come accustom to. Constant praise and support was a good driving factor for his student; it drove him, pushed him into doing his best. Yuuri had apparently noticed this too since when he stopped to take a swig of water, he looked at Viktor with his big brown eyes that held Viktor's heart.
"Viktor?"
"Hmm?"
"A-Are you alright?" Yuuri let worry clouded eyes drift down to his hands like he was nervous that he had done something to upset the Russian skater.
Viktor internally sighed and formed a fake smile on his lips and nodded, "Yes. Why do you ask, Yura?"
Yuuri met his eyes and then blushed deeply as he let his eyes drift back down to the water bottle in his hands, "You just seem like your…never mind."
"What is it Yuuri? Remember, we have to be open with each other as coach and skater. That's how we build trust, remember?"
Yuuri bit his lip and then mumbled, "You just seem like there's something bothering you is all. I-If you wanna talk about it…" He trailed off nervously.
Viktor pushed his fake smile into a weak heart-shaped smile, "There's nothing wrong. I promise. Your jumps are wobbly though."
o.O.o
- Two months later –
Yuuri had known that Viktor was one who loved being on time. He wasn't patient. He didn't like waiting for silly things. It was just how Viktor was. That was how he knew something was wrong when he walked into the rink five minutes late that morning and Viktor wasn't waiting for him, skates already on and heavy Russian accented English waiting to berate him as usual. Nishigori had told him that he hadn't seen Viktor anywhere this morning and thought that maybe he would be coming in with Yuuri.
Such was not the case.
Yuuri pulled out his phone and dialed Viktor's number, listening to the dial tone on the other side for a minute before Viktor picked up the phone.
"Zdravstvuyte?1" Viktor's voice called through the phone, laden with sleep.
"Viktor? I don't speak Russian, can you say that in English?." Yuuri told him as he bounced softly on the balls of his feet.
"Oh, sorry, Yuuri. I didn't look to see who it was." He mumbled, "What's wrong?"
Yuuri stuttered, "N-Nothing. It's just…I thought we had training this morning."
"Oh." Viktor had hummed, "We do. I'll be there soon. Start warming up and then work on your spins. Your sit spin could be done a little more smoothly. Try pointing your toe more."
"Are you okay, Viktor?"
"Hmm? Oh. Yes. I'm alright. I just must've overslept is all." Viktor sounded like he was trying to sound cheerful for Yuuri, but Yuuri wasn't fully buying it. This wasn't typical Viktor Nikiforov behavior, however, he didn't want to push the Russian man too much.
"Okay. Uhm, I'll see you soon then."
"Da. Do skoroy vstrechi, Yuuri.2" Yuuri brought the phone down from his ear as the line went quiet. He bit his lip worriedly but followed Viktor's instructions.
The truth was, Viktor had been awake for hours. He had been looking up at the creaky ceiling for the past hour, wallowing in the hollowness that had gained control once more. He knew he should get up; Yuuri would be waiting for him at the rink with his cute brown eyes and round cheeks and his messy dark hair. Viktor had found everything about Yuuri to be cute, but normally it only took Viktor thinking about the possibility that Yuuri might have woken up late and would still have his messy sleep induced hair (even though he had tried and failed to finger comb it into place). Today, however, Viktor just didn't have energy. He wasn't upset about anything, he wasn't even hollow, he was just tired. Too tired.
All he really wanted was for Yuuri to come back to the onsen and lay beside him in bed while he took a nap. A nap sounded heavenly right then.
But still, he wouldn't let his laziness interfere with his student's progress. And there was no way he would want to upset Yuuri either. With a promise to himself that Yuuri would be there and would be his normal happy shy self, Viktor pulled his body from the warm sheets and pulled on some sweats before heading out to the rink.
o.O.o
- Five Months Later –
He knew that he shouldn't have been upset with Chris. He knew he shouldn't have been upset over something so stupid. It didn't even really matter. He also knew that he shouldn't have snapped at Yuuri like that. He was just starting to get Yuuri to trust him and then this had happened.
Viktor sat on his tatami mat and held his face in his hands as he tried to calm himself down. He was being extremely reckless recently and he had no idea why. Normally he wasn't so quick to speak or as irritable. He had been known for being the cheerful, slightly reckless and kind skater on the Russian team. He had helped balance out the team's oddities (with Georgi's theatrics and Yuri's screaming and Mila's sarcastic temperament). He was the glue that held them together.
He couldn't understand what had even put him in a bad mood recently anyways. A few days before, he had been completely and totally fine as he was enjoying Yuuri's company and celebrating the victory of Yuuri winning silver in The Cup of China. He had finally been allowed a peek into Yuuri's own little world and since then, he had craved to see more of it. He wanted to know all of Yuuri's secrets and his likes and dislikes. He wanted Yuuri to trust him; to love him.
But then, for some odd reason, he noticed the drumming of Yuuri's fingers.
He had known that Yuuri would absentmindedly tap his foot as he stood waiting for something or tapped his fingers on the floor softly during dinner. Normally, Viktor would have pushed the noise into the background, let it flow in the white noise of the onsen. But a few nights ago, it felt as if the sound was louder than ever, like a mechanical heartbeat mocking him.
It was like every single tap was ringing in his ears.
He wanted it to stop.
He'd noticed some more of Yuuri's annoying qualities as well, like how he constantly used the word 'uhm' or how he liked to chew on ice when he was bored during lunch. He'd also noticed how Yuuri often didn't comb one small patch of hair on the back of his head and how he sometimes slipped into Japanese when he was nervous. Or how he didn't always follow Viktor's directions. He knew that none of those things should have made him irritated. He knew it.
And normally, it wouldn't have bothered Viktor at all. All of those qualities were pure Yuuri.
What had finally put him over the edge, was his best friend, Chris. It'd been a while since Chris had called, after all, he had been working hard to place at the Trophée de France to make it to the GPF. At first, it had been a pleasant call, talking about this and that as they spoke in fluent French back and forth. Chris was actually seeming to make his mood better. That was until he had asked the question.
"You know, Vitya, you never did explain to me why you left the ice." Chris had sighed over the phone. Viktor had felt himself frown in irritation. He had figured that was obvious at this point.
"You know why I'm not competing. I'm taking a season off to train Yuuri." He mumbled as he twirled a piece of his hair around his finger.
"Well, duh, I knew that. But why? What's so special about Katsuki?"
Viktor clenched his jaw once and then unclenched it, "He's talented. He just needs someone to get on his level is all."
"You're in love with him, then?" Viktor paused and felt his insides boil.
"What makes you think that?" He almost slammed his fist onto the ground and glared at the wall.
"What's gotten you so angry, Vitya?"
"Just shut the hell up, will you. You know why." Viktor was seething, on the brink of exploding. He knew that Chris was just asking a question. The whole reason behind Viktor's anger was stupid, honestly. Viktor normally would have gushed over the phone to Chris about how perfect Yuuri was, how sweet he was like he had done many times since the banquet. He'd done it so many times that Christophe had practically begged for him to talk about something else for a few minutes between the topic of the Japanese skater.
"You don't need to get all flustered, Viktor." Chris quipped.
"I'M NOT FLUSTERED!" Yuuri must've heard the shouting because of only a moment later there was the creek of light footfalls on the stairs and a soft knock at the door, "Viktor? Are you alri—"
"Go AWAY, YUURI." His reply had turned into a shout through the door.
As soon as the words had poured from his mouth, he instantly regretted them. Yuuri's voice hadn't come through the door since then. He had gone downstairs where Hiroki had said that Yuuri went for a run with Makkachin and that he would be back whenever. His agitation was now stressed towards himself. How could he have yelled at Yuuri?
o.O.o
- A Couple Weeks Later –
"Viktor?"
"Yes, Yuuri." He looked up from his phone at Yuuri from where he was perched on a chair in Minako's ballet studio. It had been late and Yuuri couldn't seem to sleep, so Viktor decided to accompany him to the dance studio. They had been here for a couple hours by now and it was nearing three in the morning.
"Uhm," Yuuri ducked his head for a moment, but just as soon as Viktor thought that Yuuri would brush off what he wanted to say, he continued, "Have you thought about seeing someone?" Viktor felt his heart screaming at him. Could it possibly be that Yuuri was…
"Of course I have. Although, there is someone particular that I'm rather infatuated with." He hummed and smiled at Yuuri.
Yuuri's face looked a little confused, "Huh?"
Viktor breathed out a soft chuckled as he flicked a piece of hair out of his face as he gave the skater a flirtatious look, "Are you asking me out Yuuri?"
Yuuri's face changed about three colors in the span of seconds, "Uh, No! uhm, not that you aren't attractive or anything, but no, I'm trying to focus on Grand Prix and everything and I just, uhm—"
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about…" Viktor smiled at him.
"I'm not e-embarrassed. I just- That's not what I'm talking about is all." Yuuri didn't meet his eyes when he spoke, choosing instead to look at his own feet.
Viktor smiled sadly to himself at the rejection but pushed it away so he could focus on what Yuuri wanted to tell him, "Alright, Yuuri. I'm listening."
Yuuri was quiet for a moment, but then he raised his eyes and looked directly at Viktor, "Have you thought, and I'm only saying this because I care about you, but have you ever thought about seeing someone for…your…mood swings?"
"Mood swings?" Viktor echoed with confusion.
"Yeah, uhm, you know the shift between this and a couple weeks ago?"
Viktor could see the concern in Yuuri's eyes, "So, I was a little agitated a few weeks ago, it happens to the best of us, doesn't it?" He softened his smile to try to reassure Yuuri and to make sure the skater knew he wasn't trying to make fun of his suggestion.
"But—"
"I'm fine Yura. Get back to your Temps de Poissons3 or if you're tired we can return home." Viktor smiled, but he made it clear he wasn't going to answer Yuuri's question.
o.O.o
- Present –
Viktor wasn't sure how long he had been at the bar at this point. He was close to the end of the bottle of vodka that the tender had left for him. The multi-colored glass of the bottles at the bar were still twinkling in the dim lighting – mocking him with how full they were and how empty he was. It was depressing, to say the least. He knew he should go home, pay his tab and wait for a cab to take him back to the apartment where his fiancé would be waiting for him.
He took another swig from his glass as he wedged his head up with his palm. The bar's liveliness was starting to die down. The group of college students in the corner were readying to leave to go to another spot. A group of older women were still talking quietly to each other as they passed around a cigarette, further down the counter from Viktor. The old man on the other side of the room had stopped looking like he was going to cry and was simply watching whatever was playing on the TV overhead.
Another sip.
The vastness was not yielding.
o.O.o
- 10 Years ago –
The first time Viktor had tried self-medicating, he'd been a few weeks shy of eighteen and he hadn't actually planned on drinking that much. The hollowness had been particularly bad that night and he felt like his whole body had been slowed down by the weight of it all. The feeling wasn't new, but the change in weight and how it affected him had been an interesting addition.
"Vitka," He looked up at his coach from across the dining room table, pausing his fork from playing with his side salad on his plate, "I've decided that I think you're old enough to have a glass of Gin with dinner if you'd like. But I'm pouring the glass. Kak tol'ko yego uydut, yego net, khorosho4?"
Viktor felt himself give a small smile to his coach. He'd been harping the older man for months now, asking if he could, under Yakov's supervision, just try a bit of the hard liquor the man had kept in the cupboard. Viktor had enjoyed wine plenty of times while being in the presence of Lilia and between traveling, but from Vodka to Rum to Tequila had been off-limits to him (Yakov Feltsman had made sure of it).
"Really? Thank you." Viktor smiled a little wider and tried to show how happy he would have been if he didn't feel like he was made of led. His coach and father figure threw him a small smile, the edge of his lips simply quirking upwards, and left to fetch the bottle of Gin.
That first sip of gin had burned.
Where the wine had been sweet and soft on his palette, the gin had been strong and had tasted earthy, almost like he was drinking from a bottle of Pine-sol. And while the taste hadn't been the best, the gin had immediately given him that warm feeling inside of him. The one that had just started flowing through Viktor after one glass of red wine.
Yakov smirked at him from the other side of the table, "Is it as good as you thought it'd be?" Viktor could tell that Yakov was hoping he'd say he wasn't into it. He was hoping that Viktor would stick to the low to medium alcohol percentage groups in a few weeks once he turned 18 and was legally allowed to drink. He supposed it was Yakov's protective instincts coming out and now that Viktor had grown up, Yakov's ability to shield and protect Viktor from things had decreased significantly. As a child, Viktor had always been under his father figure's wing, protected and cared for, but now things could change rather rapidly.
"Neplokho5." He raised an eyebrow at his coach, "Tastes almost like a Christmas Tree. Seems fitting for the time of year."
Yakov hummed and took a sip of his own drink, "A lot of people say it tastes like pine. They don't care for it, but it's not bad if you like the more earthy tastes and if you enjoy strong liquor."
They both sat in silence together after that, sipping on their glasses of gin while eating dinner. Makkachin had come out of Viktor's room where she had been sleeping and was now resting her head in Viktor's lap as she panted up at him. He pet her head softly as he took another sip. The burning as the alcohol went down, but it was becoming more pleasurable with each sip. The burning was making him feel something inside of him and the warmth that was flowing through his blood was traveling everywhere, enveloping the vast form of nothingness in a box and shutting the lid tightly over it.
He wasn't entirely mechanical after all. He could still feel.
He was nearing the end of his glass when Yakov's cell phone had rung. He spoke over the phone to someone for a few brief moments, before he ended the conversation and stood up.
"Lilia said that Yuri wasn't feeling well and was wondering if I could come fetch him." He sighed and set his glass down next to the bottle of gin and grabbed his coat from the small closet by the door, "I'll be back soon. Don't forget to wash the dishes when you're done. I'll be back soon."
As soon as Yakov was gone, he went back to sipping at his drink and petting Makkachin. The feel of the gin running veins and stirring in his stomach was battling off the emptiness, but it still seemed prominent. The original effect was slowly starting to wear off.
The glint of the bottle sitting on the counter caught his eye. He had promised Yakov that he wouldn't have more than what he'd served him, but a little more couldn't hurt. Could it?
He had three more glasses that night before he finally felt better enough to sleep soundly.
o.O.o
- Present –
Viktor was startled out of his daze, by the chair next to him squeaking slightly as someone sat down next to him.
"Vitya." He turned to look at Yuuri who was perched next to him, worry painted on his face, "How much have you had?"
"Sir, may I see your ID?" The bartender had come over to see what Yuuri wanted but was soon waved off after Yuuri flashed him his ID.
"How much Vitya?" He asked again, his full attention back on his fiancé.
"I don't even know anymore." Viktor sighed as he looked at Yuuri. His lover didn't look good with his face set that way. Yet, Viktor couldn't help but be drawn into Yuuri's warmth. He laid his head on Yuuri's shoulder and looked at him.
"I think you've had enough." Yuuri mumbled and pushed the bottle away from him, "I finally came to look for you. It's almost four-thirty in the morning and you never came home."
Viktor gave a soft smile, "I'm sorry Yura. I didn't want to make you worried. I just lost track of time, I guess."
Yuuri was quiet for a moment, letting his head lean against Viktor's that was now laying against his shoulder. Viktor intertwined their fingers together softly, showing that he truly was sorry for upsetting his lover, and beyond hoping that this wouldn't be tossing him onto the couch for the rest of the night.
"Yakov made an appointment for you tomorrow morning." Yuuri suddenly broke the silence.
"Appointment? With who?"
"A psychiatrist. And a counselor." Yuuri hummed and squeezed Viktor's hand.
"What for? W-Why?"
"We're worried. All of us. You haven't been yourself lately. I know you have your moments when you get like this and I always am scared that something might happen."
Viktor pulled away to look at his fiancé, "Like what, Yura?"
"That you'd do something stupid? That you'd do something you can't fix?"
"If you're wondering, I'm not suicidal." Viktor gave his fiancé a hard look
Yuuri gave a weak smile and Viktor could see the tears beading in his eyes, "I know. We never thought you were."
"Then why wou—"
"Because I love you." Yuuri told him before placing a soft kiss to his mouth, "It's because I want the best for you. Vitya, I want you to be happy."
"I am happy." Viktor protested, "I'm happy here with you."
"It's okay to not be happy all the time. I can see the way you look when you go into these phases. You try to be cheerful, but you're not. And that's okay. I won't go anywhere just because you can't always be happy."
Viktor was silent for a moment, "If it's okay, then why is it a problem, Yuuri? Why does it really matter?"
"It's been getting worse since the beginning of the season. You have more episodes. They last longer. You drink more and more often. You close in on yourself, Vitka."
"And?"
"And, I don't want you to go on anymore not loving life like you normally do, because of this." Yuuri took both of Viktor's hands in his, "Maybe we're wrong. Maybe this is nothing. But, will you try it Viktor? Please?"
Viktor's eyes met Yuuri's brown ones that were filled to the brim with unshed tears. Yuuri really was distressed by this. He was worried and nervous and scared. He was scared for Viktor. It was a look Viktor had never expected, nor wanted, to see in his life. Yuuri, his beautiful shy Yuuri, didn't look good with watery eyes and shaking hands. Since he had started coaching the Japanese skater two years ago, he had made it his mission to make Yuuri happy. Yuuri was stunning with a wide smile on his face; the same smile that lit up his world.
"Alright," he sighed softly before slipping into fluid Japanese, "Watashi wa iku. Anata no tame ni, Yura6."
Once Yuuri had managed to get Viktor home, they had fallen on the couch together, silent as they held onto each other. Viktor had laid his head on Yuuri's stomach as he laid between Yuuri's legs on the couch while his fiancé played softly with his hair. It had gotten a bit longer than he had wanted in the past few weeks, but somehow he didn't have the heart to cut it when Yuuri liked to weave his fingers through it so much.
"Thank you." He was surprised the words had come out of his mouth.
"For what?" Yuuri's voice was just as quiet as he had been.
"For loving me." And while he still was being drowned in the numbness of it all, the warmth from Yuuri took the edge off.
Yuuri hadn't been the solution, but Yuuri had given him exactly what he needed.
He'd given him strength.
Translations:
Zdravstvuyte? = Hello?
Da. Do skoroy vstrechi, Yuri. = Yes. See you soon, Yuuri.
Temps de Poisson: a ballet jump
Kak tol'ko yego uydut, yego net, khorosho? = Once it's gone, its gone, alright?
Neplokho. = Not bad.
Watashi wa iku. Anata no tame ni, Yura = I'll go. For you, Yura.
A/N: (Happy World Mental Health Day, lovelies! As always, one of my wishes for all of you is that you feel your best and that you feel comfortable. In the past year, my struggle with mental health has been ridiculous. I've had bad bouts of depression since I was about eleven or twelve (see my previous works & ANs if you don't believe me), but this year has really been a bad depression and anxiety year for me with starting college, getting in and out of a really bad/rough relationship and having to generally figure my shit out. Since this year, I always brushed off my depressive episodes and just let them take their toll on me, but I finally sought out help for myself (with the encouragement from my parents) this year and my life has gotten so much better. Remember, needing help doesn't mean you are weak; it just means you had the strength to ask for help to pull yourself out. I love you all and I hope you have an awesome day. – Sam)