Chapter 1
The first thing Yuuri was aware of as he slowly came back to consciousness was the distant throbbing in the back of his head.
Soft voices echoed in his ear, so quiet that Yuuri wasn't sure if they were real or just a dream. Was he dreaming? The pins and needles pricking at his fingertips felt very real though along with the foul taste of vomit clinging to the inside of his mouth. He grimaced before he could help it, the skin on his cheek feeling stiff like it was bruising.
That usually happened after he got a face full of ice. He groaned quietly at the thought, trying to cast his mind back to the jump that had taken him out. Nothing came to him though and he quickly gave up as the back of his skull started to throb in protest.
The voices started to get more real.
Yuuri was able to finally make out soft words through the chaos, rippling with a Russian accent: "Is this normal?"
"It's unusual for him to be out this long." This time, it was a Spanish accent. "But medically his vitals are fine and the scan came back negative for abnormalities… there's no reason to be concerned at this point."
Were they talking about him? Curious, Yuuri finally peeled his eyes open and winced at the blinding light closing in from the corners of his vision. His hand lifted to shield him from the brightness, his arm feeling heavier than he remembered.
"Ah," the Spanish voice picked up, "Here we are! Buenas noches."
Blinking furiously, Yuuri's surroundings started to piece together through the dots in his vision. He was in a white room with slabs of wooden panelling on the walls, a peaceful snowy evening on the other side of the wide window to his left. A heart monitor machine was beeping away by his right shoulder, attached to him through a clip on his forefinger.
He was in a hospital, he suddenly realised, eyes popping wide with a shock as he drank in his surroundings. The beep of the heart monitor sped up.
He gasped before he could help it and bolted up onto his elbows, regretting it almost instantly as the trembling in his arms was challenged by the dizziness swimming in his head. He fell back against the soft pillows with a whine, scrunching his eyes shut again.
"It's okay, Yuuri." A warm hand touched his shoulder, gently encouraging him to stay still. "You're in the hospital. You were involved in an accident at the CCIB and hit your head, but you're alright."
Slowly teasing his eyes open again, Yuuri frowned up at the kind brown gaze staring down at him. The Spanish doctor stood on the window side of his bed, one hand gently pinning Yuuri down and the other leaning against the bed rail. His soft smile gleamed comfortingly through through the stray curly brown hair that fell over his olive skinned face, escaping the strands tucked behind his ears. The name tag clipped to the breast pocket of his scrubs read 'Santiago'.
It was the Russian perched on Yuuri's right that really caught his attention though. His thin lips curved into a warm smile when Yuuri's gaze fell to him. "How do you feel?" his voice was like velvet.
Silver hair and bright blue eyes defined him, his delicate pale features half hidden by the bangs falling casually over his left eye. Yuuri struggled to fault him. An exquisite black suit adorned his tall, lithe body and Yuuri glimpsed the powder blue of a trench coat draped over the back of his chair. As much as he looked, Yuuri couldn't see any ID.
He focused back on the question instead, remembering the dull ache at the back of his skull. "My head hurts." he forced out with a slight wince.
"That's normal." Doctor Santiago just chuckled, wandering round to the foot of Yuuri's bed to scribble on the clipboard hanging there. "I'll prescribe some painkillers to take home with you."
Yuuri sighed in relief at the mere thought of the numbing medication, turning slowly back to the Russian. His crystal blue eyes were easy to hold. "What kind of accident?" Yuuri asked, his throat feeling raw. His spine crawled waiting for the answer.
The smile on the Russian's face died a little, but his gaze still glittered. "You fell." He broke softly, fingers closing over Yuuri's wrist gently. "In the middle of your short programme."
As soon as he'd said it, it all came flooding back to Yuuri; the bright lights of the stadium ceiling staring down at him from an angle Yuuri knew he should never have to see, the back of his head feeling dizzy and wet. He vaguely remembered the deathly silence as the music was suddenly cut off and the urgent scratching of ice shoes running towards him.
That wasn't all though - he remembered a harrowing scream calling to him across the ice, just before he'd blacked out: "YUURI!"
He gasped sharply at the memory, feeling the air punch through his chest.
"It's okay," the Russian echoed Santiago's words, anchoring Yuuri back to the present. "You cut your head a little, but that's the worst of it. You're going to be fine."
That wasn't what was bothering him though. He'd fallen before and inevitably would again, always walking away from it and gritting his teeth through the pain. The fact this one had been a little harder didn't change that. That yell echoed hauntingly in his mind though; it had been so raw, so completely devoid of anything even remotely rational…
Gentle fingers moulded around Yuuri's cheek and coaxed him from his thoughts, guiding his face to the Russian. On instinct, Yuuri's arm jerked and slapped the hand away sharply.
The heart monitor suddenly flashed red, beeping frantically.
Yuuri tried to control the runaway hammer of his heartbeat as Dr Santiago flew to his side, snapping the clip off his finger and blocking him from the Russian's stunned gaze. He whipped out a little pen torch from his breast pocket while his fingers pressed against the pulse point at the inside of Yuuri's wrist. Yuuri didn't move a muscle as the doctor shone the light into his eyes. Out of the corner of his gaze though, he caught the Russian run a shaky hand through his hair.
"Don't look at him." Dr Santiago murmured softly. "Look at me, please."
Heat flushed Yuuri's cheeks as he corrected his gaze and focussed on a strand lock of curly brown hair hanging between Dr Santiago's focused eyes instead.
When the light switched off though, he found himself drawn explicitly back to the Russian.
"Yuuri…" A tiny crease furrowed the space between the man's eyebrows and his lips drifted apart ever so slightly, looking an innocent combination of puzzled and hurt.
Yuuri didn't understand. Sensing he was missing something, his gaze travelled between the Russian and Dr Santiago, suddenly taking note of the differences between them that he had ignored before. He threw his earlier assumptions into question when he couldn't find anything to back them up. "Who are you?" His eyes settled back on the Russian, voice stammering.
The air stiffened in a heartbeat.
At first Yuuri had assumed he was a doctor, but he wasn't wearing scrubs like Santiago was nor any kind of name tag. He didn't seem to have a pager either. But if he wasn't a doctor, then who was he?
A nervousness swept over Yuuri at having to ask, only made worse as he noticed the way Dr Santiago's eyes suddenly snapped up from the notes he was writing on the clipboard at the foot of the bed. He didn't say anything though, gaze darting to the Russian's reaction.
Yuuri did the same: as soon as the words left Yuuri's mouth, he watched what little colour was in the Russian's pale face whiten completely, his eyes widening with a confusion that bordered on horror. Whatever it was though, he recovered quickly and in the blink of an eye had fixed a small smile back in place. It didn't quite reach his eyes this time though.
"What are you talking about?" he chuckled nervously, leaning forward in his chair and bracing his elbows on his knees. "It's me."
His long fingers interlocked together just in front of his chin in a way that was obviously intended to look casual, but failed miserably. The white knuckles betrayed him.
As the silence dragged on, the furrow in Yuuri's brow just got deeper and deeper.
Slowly, the Russian's facade started to unravel. Every silent second knocked his stiff smile back into submission again bit by bit, eyes widening with realisation. Something was obviously starting to set in. His hopeful expression faltered more with every thudding heartbeat, falling in slow motion as he finally realised that Yuuri really wasn't kidding. "Y-you know who I am, don't you?" His face was ashen.
Yuuri just stared at him blankly.
He watched the horror unfurl on the Russian's face with a confused frown, not sure what was going on. What was he missing?
He didn't the chance to work it out though before the man suddenly burst to his feet, chair legs squealing against the floor in protest. There was nothing he could do to stop him as he leaned forward and grabbed Yuuri's shoulders.
"I'm Victor!" he near shouted, desperate eyes bearing imploringly into his. "I'm your Victor! Tell me you know who I am."
Only Yuuri didn't know any Victor.
The clipboard dropped onto Yuuri's legs as Santiago quickly stepped between them, his firm hand on Victor's shoulder pulling him back. "Mr Nikiforov, if you could step outside for a moment-"
Victor brushed the doctor's hands off him. "He doesn't know who I am!"
When his eyes fell back to Yuuri again, there was only glittering heartbreak. His fingers ran shakily through his hair, brushing his bangs back from his face as the breath hitched in his chest. He looked like he was going to be sick.
A single pearly tear rang down his cheek as his arm fell limply back to his side. "He doesn't know who I am..."
His voice was barely more than a whisper, but Yuuri clung to every word.
Out of the corner of his eye, something glinted in the bright hospital light and Yuuri quickly found the culprit glittering in the form of a single gold ring on the Russian's right hand.
He wasn't sure what made him do it, but Yuuri glanced down before he could help himself. His hand rested forgotten on his lap, a gold ring gleaming from his finger. It was exactly the same, he realised, feeling his stomach twist. They were identical.
Only he didn't remember it at all.
