AN: I'm crying, so here's an AU-ish continuation of episode 11's end scene, because I'm not okay and I can't wait a full week. Have fun with this because I'm sobbing whilst writing it. I haven't stopped. May God Save My Soul.

-AP

Viktor's POV

"After the Grand Prix Final, let's end this."

Let's end this.

End this.

The words keep echoing in my head over and over. It seems stupid, probably; People see me as the more confident one in mine and Yuuri's relationship but...I mean, I'm confident, don't get me wrong. I'm very aware of the infamy of myself and my skills; so aware that it sometimes scares me, but...

Let me start from the top.

When I first saw Yuuri Katsuki on the ice, it's safe to say that it may have been the most whole and honest type of affection that swelled in my chest that I may have ever experienced. My eyes sparkled and no matter how many mistakes his made, the music of his body spoke to me. But then, he failed in the final, so I suppose I tried to brush it off and focus on what everyone wanted me to. Skating.

I do love skating. It's my passion; Something beautiful that only certain people can share with the world. It's past my time, though. I knew that when practice and performance both became a boring distraction from the reality I was trying to face. Living alone, without family. Living day-in-day-out with Yakov, practice, feeding Makkachin, and sleeping. That was it; A dumb routine that was killing me from the inside to the out.

When he danced with me...Well. It's safe to say that I fell entirely by that point. That, when he dipped me, I wanted to kiss him so badly. That, when he dipped me, and pulled me back up, he sent me hurtling off of a rocky and sharp cliff surface to icy waters below, and that cliff was love; true love, a kind I'd never felt before. He asked me to be his coach. And maybe a season too late, but...But how could I say no? He brought color to something I thought had become black-and-white forever, with his nerdy glasses and his mussed up hair and his nervous giggles and grins.

I meant what I said.

Or, rather, I meant something else entirely.

Spending forever with him would never be enough time with Yuuri.

And it was just...Perfect. For so long. And we danced and laughed and ran and sung and hugged and kissed, my God, we kissed on TV. In front of everyone, in front of China, in front of, in front of...

Before him, I would've been way too scared to even think about it, but by the time I thought then, my nose was pressed up against the ice, and I felt the slightly faster movements of his chest against mine. We kissed. More than once. Before that even, but...Not like that. That was something new. An uncontrollable impulse that I'd never let take me over like that for anybody else. But no, we kissed, we kissed and I couldn't be prouder.

Of him. Of us. Of everything.

And then this came, his blushing face, and rings, God, RINGS, we'd called each other 'boyfriend' in private but now it was completely-, it was new. We confessed (I confessed) in front of an entire cafe; In front of our friends. In fact...Dear God, Yuuri Katsuki is my FIANCE.

I tried not to squeal out loud.

And then the performance happened and I was there, I was there with him, on the ice, even though I was just watching. And he messed up but it was perfect, it was perfect because it was him. Show me a beautiful performance with no mistakes, I dare you; Because you can't. Even I make mistakes. Even Yurio makes mistakes. We're only human.

I tried not to notice the way Yuuri's eyes burned into the back of my head as I watched Yurio perform. I tried not to notice his discouraged expression, and the way he kept worriedly glancing in my direction during the performances. I tried to tell myself that it was just him being him, or me being paranoid, or us both being nervous after his last Grand Prix results. But the truth is, as soon as he told me we needed to have a talk when we got back to the hotel, I knew.

It seemed so much more real now though.

I stared at him, dumbfounded. He looked scared, and sad, and he was purposefully avoiding my eyes. "V-viktor, are you-?" He began to stutter out, but my mind was running at a thousand miles per hour and I cut him off half way through. "W-w-what?!" I didn't mean to yell it, but I must have, because the quiet chatter from the rooms around of dispersed into curious silence. Yuuri looked up, eyes wide and panicked, and in his panic, seemed to forget that he didn't want to meet my eyes.

As soon as he did, his pupils trained back down to his hands. "Please don't cry, Viktor." He said it so quietly, that had I been in anything other than complete silence, I might not have heard it at all. I confusedly brought a hand to my face, and pulled it back, looking angrily down at the wetness that had come from my cheeks. Goddammit, he's allowed to leave me if he wants to, why am I so upset?!

I want to stop myself and go blank like I have so many times before, but it just isn't working. My breaths are coming too fast, my face feels hot, and water is pouring out of my eyes like a dam had broke that had been held back for years. For...for many, many years. I tried to speak, but a strangled cry was the only sound I got, and I covered my mouth and tried to hide my face. It's his choice. He's allowed to leave. He's allowed...

But I don't want him to.

I started shaking, the sobs tumbling out of me too face to hide, tears and breathing both coming too fast for me to process, my entire body trembling with the force of so much at such extremity, something it had never had to cope with before now.

"V-viktor, I-I...I-I...I don't want t-this, I-I'm not trying to hurt you!" Yuuri scrambled to speak as if his words could ever make me better now they'd destroyed me. "What are you trying to do, Yuuri? What do you want?" My voice was thick with tears, but still strong, and I psyched myself up before turning to him. I was angry. God, I was angry. But not at him.

Of course, he was closest. "What do you really want? Someone better? Is that it? Is everything I have, my every secret and crevice, is that not enough?! A-am I not...not good enough?" Stop crying, Viktor. Stop crying. Stop crying. Stop it.

"You're TOO good! For me! Never doubt your own self-worth like that! You mean more to me than anyone ever has in the world, ever, and that...That...This is for your own good, Viktor, you'll thank me later." He let his voice go quieter as he spoke, until he basically whispered the last part. I looked at him incredulously. What?

What?!

Without thinking, I lunged at him and curled myself around him, just to have him close, just because the familiar warmth and smell comforted me enough to be calm. "The only thing that's for my own good is you." I said it more to myself than him, but he seemed to have heard it, because he gently pried me off with a sad smile. He was looking at me properly now.

It hurts.

"We've got tomorrow. After that, I'll go back to Japan. You'll go back to Russia. Maybe we'll meet on the ice some day, who knows? Maybe neither of us will want to go back. I don't know. But I won't allow you to throw your passion away for me."

I don't know why I came here.

But here I am, melting into my ex-coach's shoulder and crying my eyes out at 3-A-fucking-M because my fiance left me.

I mean, he didn't leave me. He's asleep in his bed a couple of rooms over. Yurio's across the hall. Everyone's here. I'd usually care about them listening in, but I was too torn up to care.

Yakov was rubbing my back like he did when I was younger, letting out a yawn. "Vitya, you can always just come back. You'll be bound to see him again." He said it in a gentle tone foreign to his voice, and I just shook my head numbly into his shoulder. "I don't want to skate anymore."

There was a pause. "You don't mean that, Vitya." He stated strictly. I shook my head again.
"I'm done with skating. I can't be on ice that he was once on, Yakov, I can't be there knowing that I messed another thing up."

"You never messed it up before and you never messed it up now. These things happen." My former coach said, pushing me back and sitting me down on his bed. I nodded again, but it was more of to justify not speaking a response than to actually take in the statement. He let out a loud sigh, looking down at me. "This is the only time I've ever seen you wear your heart so openly on your sleeve, Vitya. He means a lot to you, I know."

"Everything." I responded mindlessly, fiddling with my hands until I noticed the gold ring still sitting on my finger, and then tearing up and averting my gaze to the Spanish night outside of the window. Yakov must have said something else, because suddenly I was stood.

"So go back to your room, sleep, and we'll see what happens after the competition, okay, Vitya?"

I nodded.

...

Yuuri left our beds separate that night.

AN: Oh Dear God LET ME DIE. I method-wrote this, as I usually do with first person, and I am sobbing like a baby right now. Who thought method-writing angst was a good idea?! I did. Anyway, I apologize if this made you feel half as terrible as it did me. Leave a review if you liked it or have feedback, and thanks for reading!

-AP