The rink closed at nine. Yakov left at nine-thirty and the custodial staff was done by ten. Practice was over when the doors were closed and locked; However, as the professional team had long ago learned, if there's a will there's a way and Yuri knew where Yakov kept his spare key. After hour practice was like the figure skating black market. It was a system that required precision and secrecy. It took more than making sure people kept their mouths shut. A few years into Victor's junior days and the security camera that watched the ice became notorious for "malfunctioning" for a few hours in the middle of the night. Years later and Yuri was using the same shortcuts and back doors to sneak into the sleeping building. He didn't turn on the overhead lights and instead settled for the dim spotlight that hit the middle of the ice. Slipping his skates on his feet and his phone in his pocket Yuri took to the ice.
It was different at night. The familiar building transformed into something new and exciting. The sound of skate cutting ice echoed so clearly through the air it became its own kind of music. Yuri's day practice had been fine but he was a defending champion now, anything less than excellent wouldn't cut it. He skated through the routine with the adrenaline from trespassing egging him on. And maybe it was because it was dark, or because he was tired, or because he just wasn't paying close enough attention, his toepick caught on an attempted quad, there was an audible pop in his knee and he was sent flying, not into the air, but head first into the ice.
It happened too quickly for Yuri to tuck his head, too quickly for him to use any of the procedures for falling safely. The impact knocked the wind out of him and the sound his head made when it hit the ice echoed through the dark building for what seemed like an eternity. Yuri cried out his head was pulsing. "Shit," he ground out through clenched teeth. He was laying on his stomach with his arms out in front of him and his forehead resting on the ice. He tried to pull his head off the ice but even the small movement caused his eyes to tear up.
This is bad.
He again tried again to get up but only managed to flop onto his back with a strangled sob.
Very bad.
The left side of his forehead, the contact point, was numb, a fact he was grateful for. While he couldn't yet feel the sharp pain of the laceration he could feel the blood seeping out of the slit skin and down his face. Yuri tried once more and found that he couldn't sit up let alone get himself off the ice. Panic appeared out of the shadows like a wolf and sunk its teeth in Yuri's core.
There's no one here. No one. What am I going to do?
He tried to keep his breathing steady. He groaned as the amount of pain coursing through him amplified.
My phone. I have to call for help.
Yakov would be pissed when he found out about the breaking in but he'd bust an aneurysm if Yuri bled out before competition season and on his ice no less. Yuri's body began to shiver violently and he knew he had to move. He rolled back onto his stomach and fought down the reflex to vomit. The ice below him was already coated in crimson. He pulled one leg under him. "Okay…" He took a trembling breath and attempted to move his left leg. His knee was stiff but it wasn't hurting. He bent it- or tried to he felt the same popping as before but this time it was accompanied with the sensation of bones snapping. He screamed. No one heard him. No one. "I can't stay here," Yuri sobbed. He used his forearms to pull himself toward the boards. "Come on," he said through chattering teeth. He couldn't move fast enough. "Come on!" He hadn't even reached the edge of the stoplight before his arms gave out. His head was fuzzy and his vision was flickering. He fell flat against the ice, grateful that the cold at least helped numb the pain in his head. "I'm an idiot. I'm such an idiot." His leg was throbbing.
I might have just ended my career
He closed his eyes against the brightness of the light on him. "The rink opens at six Yakov will be here by five. I can make it till five. I'll be ok," Yuri whispered. He knew vaguely that he shouldn't fall asleep but it was late and he was cold and the prospect of sleep was just too tempting.
/././
Victor and Yuuri approached the front door to the rink at four-thirty in the morning. Victor reached into his pocket and produced a key- perk of being a part time coach. Mila jumped out of her car to meet them.
"You have a key? Great! Now I don't have to go in through the locker room window." Victor chuckled and Yuuri stared at her like she was crazy.
"The window?" He asked.
"Only place they don't have cameras," Mila replied.
"You realize Yakov will be here in about forty-five minutes right?" Victor asked as he pushed open the door.
"That's forty-five minutes of ice time wasted." Mila adjusted her bag and walked in behind them. Victor went over to turn on the lights and Yuuri sat down to pull on his skates. Mila walked over to him, having stopped in the locker room first. "Why are you two here so early anyway?" She asked propping her foot up on the bench next to Yuuri to remove her boot.
"It's easier when there are less people watching," Yuuri said quietly. He glanced up at the ice and froze. Is that…? Yuuri's heart started thumping. He was afraid to look closer. The lights roared to life illuminating the entire building. Mila screamed. Victor ran around the corner with a million questions on his lips. By the time he took in the scene Mila had already jumped the boards, sprinting onto the ice with one shoe on.
"Yuri. Yura," She said, sliding onto her knees. It looked like a horror movie. The ice was smeared with dried blood and the teenager in front of her was out cold. "Oh my God," She put a shaking hand to her mouth. Victor appeared next to her. "Is he… oh, my God. Yura." Victor put two fingers under Yuri's jaw.
"He's ok. Mila call 112." Mila stared at Yuri's unresponsive body. "Mila!" She looked up at him helplessly.
"I've got it," Yuuri said from the sidelines, pulling out his phone. Yuri groaned and all their eyes were on him.
"Yurio can you hear me?" Victor leaned down close to catch a response. He placed his hands on Yuri's back and shoulder. "Yurio?"
"It's Yuri," he ground out. Yuri's eyes fluttered open against the bright light. Mila sat back with a breath of relief.
"What happened to you?" Mila asked. Yuri pushed himself up onto his forearms. Victor steadied him as he rolled onto his back. Now that they could see just how bad Yuri's head looked they both cringed.
"I couldn't get to my phone," Yuri said. Victor took note of how his voice slurred. "I tried but I couldn't-" He inhaled sharply through his teeth.
"Okay," Victor said. He brushed Yuri's hair out of his face and examined the gash splitting his eyebrow. Yuri closed his eyes and a faint whine escaped his lips. "I know, I'm sorry."
"No, my knee. I h-hurt my knee," Yuri gasped. Victor moved down and even through Yuri's leggings he could see the misalignment. "I can't move it," Yuri said. His foot twitched and Victor immediately locked a hand above and below his knee to stop the movement.
"Don't try and move." Yuri huffed on a sob that escaped his throat. He raised both hands to his face.
"My career is over isn't it?" Tears fell down his cheeks. Mila scooted over and placed his head in her lap.
"No, it's not. But it could be if you keep moving," Victor said. Mila whipped the tears off his face with her thumb.
"It's a dislocation Yuri, you'll be just fine," She said. He exhaled and closed his eyes.
"You're an idiot Yuri Plisetsky," Mila said quietly. "Don't you know better than to skate alone?" Yuri cleared his throat and mumbled something incoherent. "What?" Mila asked leaning forward. Yuri turned his head muttering a bit louder, still nothing comprehensible in any language.
"Yuri speak up," Victor demanded. Yuri continued on his ramblings with no indication that he understood.
"Victor the ambulance is here," Yuuri called. Victor nodded and stood.
"Keep him awake Mila." She nodded and put both hands on Yuri's face.
"Keep talking, that's it tiger."
Victor greeted the paramedics and led them across the ice. They carefully secured Yuri onto a board and lifted him up and off the ice. Mila and Yuuri bounced to his side.
"Who's riding with us?" One of the paramedics asked.
"I am," Victor said. "Mila can you wait for Yakov? He'll have Yuri's emergency contact information." She nodded. Victor turned to Yuuri. "I'm sorry-" he began. Yuuri held up a hand.
"I'll take the car and meet you," Yuuri said. He took Victor's hand. "It's going to be ok." Victor nodded and climbed into the back of the ambulance. It took off in the direction of the hospital with its sirens blaring.
A.N~ I needed something to do so I wrote. Any ideas about what comes next?