Time heals. It'll be okay. He loved you very much. Empty promises and words of condolences. But they didn't know. They didn't understand that Yuri had utterly messed up this time.

Yuri Plisetsky had been watching Viktor's duet with Yuuri on the old television his grandpa owned for the fifth time. Viktor seemed happier than he had ever been, on ice with Yuuri, who looked as if he was still processing the fact that they were on the same ice.

"Isn't that Viktor and Yuuri's duet? They seem pretty synchronized." his grandpa said, laying a hand on the couch.

Yuri almost snorted. Synchronized was an understatement. Basically everything was an understatement for their performance; though Yuri hated to admit it, their duet was more than flawless.

"You know, Yuratchka, it would do you good to make some friends, maybe find a girlfriend." his grandpa paused, hesitating before saying, "You've distanced yourself from everyone ever since your mother-"

"Stop. Don't ever mention her." Yuri whispered.

"She loved you Yuri. She really did. She just had no choice."

"Don't. You haven't mentioned her after all these years. Don't start now."

He kept pressing on, but Yuri knew better. His mom had deserted them when he was young. What type of person would leave a kid. Screw choices. Everyone has a choice. Her choice was to leave them. Leave Yuri.

"I SAID DON'T," Yuri yelled. His grandpa just stared at him, a faint frown tugging at the corner of his lips. Yuri angled his face away from him. "I'm heading out. The Grand Prix skaters are all meeting up one last time before we part ways."

He hurried towards the door, desperate to escape the silence and his grandfather's heavy disapproval.

"Yuratchka." his grandpa sighed, the word a lament.

Yuri slammed the door.

Yuri couldn't get the words out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. She loved you Yuri. She really did. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth.

"You okay? Yuri. Yuri I'm talking to you."

Yuri opened his eyes to see Chris peeking from the side.

"Come on, don't you want a drink or something?" he teased. Yuri raised an eyebrow. As a matter of fact… "One wouldn't hurt.", he grumbled.

Chris' smile grew larger. "Yuri wants a drink? Well, I suppose there's a first time for everything." he exclaimed as the others turned to face them. Yuri slid down his chair.

"Only one." he growled. Chris smirked and muttered, "For now." as he passed a glass to Yuri. Over to his left, Otabek lightly scowled as he watched Yuri down the entire cup. And two more.

He felt lightheaded. What grandpa, what mother? He should have started drinking earlier. Yuri gripped the table as he laughed at some joke Viktor made. A giggle was still on his lips when a hand gripped his shoulder. Hard.

"You're coming with me. You shouldn't even be drinking."

Yuri looked up to find Otabek frowning at him. "No thanks, I'll stay." Yuri replied, turning back around.

"That wasn't a question. You're leaving."

"You should try a drink. Maybe it'll loosen you up a little."

Otabek sighed and dragged Yuri out of his chair.

"Chris, why'd you even offer him a drink? He's only fifteen for god's sake."

"I can take care of myself perfectly, thank you very much." Yuri said, jabbing Otabek out of the way. He stood up and leaned heavily towards the table. Otabek gave a half hearted laugh and pulled Yuri straight up, just as his phone rang.

"Hello? Yeah, of course it's me Yakov. Who do you think would pick up YURI'S phone other than me.", he said into the phone as Otabek and Pichit exchanged an exasperated look at Yuri's drunken state.

"What? Shit. I'll-I'll be right there." Yuri's face went slack and his phone dropped on the ground.

"Yuri, what's going on?" Otabek questioned as Yuri stumbled outside.

"Beka, where's your damn motorcycle?" Yuri made out.

Otabek raised his eyebrows at the nickname but threw a helmet to Yuri as they both got on. "My grandpa's in the hospital, something about a stroke. Can you get us to the nearest one?" Yuri said hurriedly as Otabek cursed and sped up.

Yuri refused to go into the room, to see his grandpa's body on the hospital bed. Instead, he sat in the waiting room, thinking how in the world he screwed up so badly. I should have been there. If I had, he might have gotten here in time for them to help. Yuri unclenched his fists and dropped his head in his hands.

"Y-Yuri," Otabek said, hesitatingly reaching an arm out around the younger boy. Yuri slithered out of his grasp. "Leave me alone.", he said, shaking his head.

Otabek grimaced at his tone and got up, "I just thought you'd want to go home. Maybe find Viktor and Yuuri or something."

"It's fine," No it wasn't. "I'll wait here for Yakov to pick me up."

"You know, it's okay to not be fine." Otabek replied, his gaze softening a fraction as he looked down. He knelt and faced Yuri, brushing a stray hair from his face. "You don't have to keep the Russian punk persona here. It's just me."

Yuri rolled his eyes and said, "That wasn't an act. And I'm fi-fine. Yakov is coming any minute. You can go ride your motorcycle around town or join Chris and the others. Don't let me stop you." Yuri hated himself for letting his voice crack. He hated himself more for saying that when he had really meant the opposite.

Otabek sighed as his eyes flickered and met the bright green ones. "I'm here if you want to talk." he said, getting up on his feet and heading away. "By the way, you left your phone at the restaurant. Catch."

Yuri missed and it fell on the floor. He wanted to call Otabek back, wanted to tell him everything. He began to yell his name. It died on his lips and Yuri faltered as he watched Otabek get on his motorcycle outside and start the engine. He never looked back.

Yuri was tired. Tired of trying to remain emotionless, of schooling his face into a look of neutrality when he felt like bursting into tears. He wanted to flop onto his bed and let it all out. Except he couldn't. Yakov was still driving back to Viktur and Yuuri's apartment, where he would be staying since his grandpa had- stop it Yuri he chided himself.

Finally. They were there. Yuri was sick of Yakov's hollow condolences. He meant well, but it didn't help.

Yakov parked the car in front of their apartment and said roughly, "Well Yuri, I'm not going to be getting off. Take care of yourself, it'll be fine." Yuri muttered a noncommittal goodbye and left the car, only to find himself enveloped in a gigantic hug with Viktor.

To his surprise, Yuri found himself leaning into the embrace, before quickly pushing away and brushing his jacket. "Yurio, are you okay?" Viktor asked, tilting his head and studying him. Yuri met his gaze then flitted his eyes onto the ground.

"I'm fine." he muttered. Viktor's mouth pulled into a small frown. "It's going to be fine. You'll be okay." he said.

"So they keep telling me." Yuri replied, letting his hair fall into his face. He was fed up with their words, at their attempts to comfort him. Of their vacant promises that everything was going to be all right. They didn't understand that everything was because of him. So instead, he stalked into their apartment and went into the first empty room he found.

Lying down onto the soft blankets, he clenched his fists and buried his face into the cloth. For the first time today, Yuri Plisetsky let the warm tears run unchecked across his cheeks.

~Thanks for Reading! If you want me to continue another chapter, please leave a review or follow so I know! Thanks again :) BTW, definitely gonna be more Otayuri in the next few chapters, so check back if you want more!~