A/n: This is an idea that came to me a while back. I mentioned it before, and an Anon on my RP blog on Tumblr (yuriplisetsky-rp) liked it. I couldn't get it out of my head, either. I did the "Last Sentence" tag on my main blog (giasesshoumaru), and that kind of inspired me to finish this little thing. It's less than 900 words. Warning, though, for obvious reasons this is not a happy story. It deals with the aftermath of finding out. There will probably be more coming. I posted it a long time ago on ao3 and never posted it here. Sorry!

Say It

"..late diagnosis… should have been diagnosed sooner... unusual with no family history, but without knowing about his father's side of the family, we have no way to know… rare, aggressive form… high mortality rate… recommend starting treatment immediately… chemotherapy… waiting is dangerous for him..."

Yuri had never been so overwhelmed in his life. Sure, he had suspected that something might be wrong, but… not this. Never this. He was only sixteen. He didn't deserve this. No one did, but especially not someone as young as he was. He had demanded to be released, though the doctors hadn't recommended that. Viktor and Yuuri had respected his decision, though, and checked him out. He was still a minor, and he didn't live with his legal guardian - his grandfather. Fuck, how was he going to tell Dedushka? He couldn't; it would kill him.

Yuri put his head in his hands, his shoulders starting to shake. He didn't know how to deal with this. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't even think it; he couldn't say it… He would never have thought that these past few months of being so tired would be anything but being severely overworked. He had been working harder, because… he wanted his second senior season to go as well as his first. Looks like that wasn't going to happen. Nor the Olympics. He and Beka were looking forward to -

Oh, fuck. Beka. His boyfriend. Whom he loved more than anything, and who loved him the same way. How did you tell your boyfriend that you were… That you had…

"How are you doing, Yura?" Viktor asked from somewhere behind him, nearby. "You've been pretty quiet since we left?"

"How the fuck do you think I'm doing?" Yuri heard the pain in his voice, dark and full of hurt. He sounded so upset to his own ears, he could only imagine how he sounded to them.

"Yura - "

"No. Don't. Don't fucking feel sorry for me. I don't want your pity," he snapped. Immediately, he started feeling guilty. They were only trying to help. They were concerned because they cared; he knew that. He shouldn't have snapped, but he was just so fucking overwhelmed right now. He didn't know how to deal with this.

In a moment, both Viktor and Yuuri were sitting on either side of him, both looking at him with concerned looks on their faces. "We don't feel sorry for you," Katsudon said from his right. "We're… concerned, that's all."

Viktor nodded. Yuri put his head in his hands, almost as if doing so could shut the world out. It didn't because Viktor spoke next. "We want to help you," he said, "but you have to do something. If you wait..."

He didn't finish his sentence, and he didn't have to. Yuri knew what the price for waiting was. The blond curled further into himself. He didn't do what to do. He felt more lost than he ever had in his life. A moment later, the tears started, and he felt two sets of strong arms wrap around him. If anything, that only made the tears come harder. He just wanted to forget that this day ever happened. Go back to yesterday, when he could imagine it was anything.

"I just… I can't," he said, through tears, his face still buried in his hands. "I just… I fucking can't." The magnitude of the situation was setting in. This happened to people every day, but…. He was sixteen. His seventeenth birthday wasn't for over a month. He was an elite athlete. He had been healthy a few months ago, or so he thought. Things like this didn't happen to people like him, but the signs had all been there, in their own subtle way. He just hadn't wanted to see it. No one ever did, he supposed.

"I know, I understand this is hard -" Viktor began in a soft voice, but Yuri cut him off.

"No, you don't! You don't fucking know!" He screamed at him, looking at him. "You're fine; you're both fine. I'm not! I'm…" He couldn't even say it.

Viktor and Yuuri didn't even seem phased by his screaming. "You're right, we don't know," Yuuri said softly, "but we'll be here for you. But you need to fight. You have to deal with this, and you don't have time to wonder about it and get used to it. You have a lot of people you love and care about you. All you have to do is just tell us what you want to do, and we'll be there for you."

"But you have to say it," Viktor told him. "You can't run away from this. Please, Yura…"

There was a pleading note in his voice, in both of their voices. Neither of them wanted to lose him to this. They were right. He didn't know how he was going to do this, but… he had to fight. Then, in a voice wracked with pain and tears, he uttered three words. It felt like a heavy weight was on his chest, and soon after, he broke down into tears again with Viktor and Yuuri holding him. None of them said a word after that.

"I have cancer."