It's currently 4am as i'm writing this chapter and the previous so do excuse any spelling/ grammar/ punctuation errors!

By the time they arrived back at their hotel Yuuri was leaning heavily on Viktor, his limbs felt double their usual weight. The short walk back had been in silence; Viktor had never felt so angry at Yuuri.

Depositing Yuuri on the bed, Viktor sighed, 'I'm disappointed in you, Yuuri'.

'But I only had one drink', Yuuri wailed, tears pricking his eyes. Why was he so emotional? He knew he hadn't done anything wrong. Right?

'Look at the state of you. You really think I'm going to believe that?' Viktor crossed his arms, 'sleep it off, you need to be on top form tomorrow'.

And with that, Viktor shut the door leaving Yuuri to himself. Walking away he felt a twinge of remorse and guilty; Yuuri gets nervous, he was probably trying to calm himself down. No, it was his fault, he should have known better.

Lying on his bed, Yuuri felt as though he was lying on the deck of a ship, the ground below him jolting him in a nauseating way. Warm tears were still pouring down his face- he didn't mean to upset Viktor. He felt the horrible sensation of bile rushing up his throat and he quickly swung his legs of the bed to rush to the bathroom. Almost as soon as his feet touched the ground, he crumpled, his legs not listening to what his brain told them to do. He cried out in frustration and resorted to crawling to his en-suite bathroom.

Meanwhile, at the bar, the remaining skaters were still enjoying a sociable evening. Yurio made his way over to Phichit's table, secretly feeling lost without Viktor or Yuuri. Though, of course he'd never admit that.

'Where did Viktor and pork cutlet bowl run off to?' he asked, taking a seat.

'Yuuri couldn't handle his drink so Viktor took him home to sober up', Christophe said, waving the empty glass as evidence.

'I don't think it was just the drink', Phichit said, concerned, 'maybe his nerves were affecting him too'.

'Fair enough', Yurio said, eyeing the drink. He was about to announce his departure when something caught his eye. Picking up the beer glass, he inspected it's inside, a white powder of some sort tinting it. 'Look at this', he said in shock.

'What the hell is that?!' Phichit exclaimed, 'is it... poison?'

'Whatever it is I bet it wasn't in the drink when Dubois ordered it', Christophe snatched the glass from Yurio, wiping the inside with his thumb.

'Someone needs to call Viktor!' Phichit said urgently, 'Yurio, do you have his number?'

'Y-yeah, I do', he said, realising the seriousness of the situation. His hands trembled as he searched for Viktor in his phone.

The phone rang for what felt like decades until Viktor finally answered.

'Hi Yurio, sorry for running out on you. Yuuri thought it was a clever idea to get wasted before...'

'Viktor! Where is Yuuri?' Yurio shouted, bursting Viktor's eardrum.

'In bed? I left him there to sober up, why?'

'He may have been poisened'

'What?!' he blurted out, 'how?'

'The glass he drank from, it's laced with some sort of powder, Viktor you have to...' Yurio was cut off as Viktor hung up, tripping over his own feet in a desperate rush to get to Yuuri.

'Yuuri!' he shouted, bursting through the door. He panicked when he saw the bed abandoned- the bathroom, he must be in the bathroom. His question was answered when he heard the horrific sound of Yuuri retching. Ramming open the bathroom door, he found Yuuri on the floor, his face paler than he'd ever seen it, eyes wide in fear.

'V-Viktor', he choked.

'I'm sorry', Viktor collapsed to his knees beside Yuuri, embracing him, 'i'm so sorry'.

'I don't feel very well', he sounded like a child, Viktor stroked his hair in attempts to calm him.

'Listen to me Yuuri, I think you may have been poisoned tonight. I need you to keep throwing up until I can get you some help, ok?'

Yuuri looked at him in shock 'Poisoned? I've-I've been..?'

Viktor knew he needed to call for help but he also couldn't bear to leave Yuuri alone in the state he was in. Almost as if an answer to his prayer, he heard ramming at the door. 'Viktor! Let us in!'

'Keep breathing, I'll be one second', he promised Yuuri, standing up and rushing to the door. There stood Yurio, Phichit and Christophe.

'Look after him, I need to call for help. Try and get him to vomit', Viktor commanded, the three agreed without hesitation.

Phichit entered the bathroom first, the stench of vomit filled the air and made his stomach flip in empathy. 'Yuuri...' he gasped, falling down beside his friend.

'Phichit, help...', Yuuri whimpered, his hands shaking around the toilet bowl.

'You're gonna be fine, just stay calm', Phichit said, giving Yuuri's shoulder a squeeze.

Christophe joined them on the ground, 'can you throw up?'

Yuuri shook his head, 'it hurts'.

'Just do it, pork cutlet bowl', Yurio demanded aggressively; Phichit shot him an unappreciative stare. But Yuuri obliged, his stomach muscles contracting painfully as more acidic bile painfully left his stomach. He groaned in discomfort.

'Yurio, get him some water', Christophe said, watching Yuuri grimace in pain. He could hear Viktor in the next room, explaining the situation to an operator.

Yuuri's breathing was becoming more and more shallow and he was on the edge of hyperventilating. Phichit had seen one of Yuuri's panic attacks before but this was far more scarier. 'Slow it down, Yuuri'.

'I... can't', he said, breathless.

The room was spinning, the sound of Phichit calling his name was sounding further and further away, he couldn't concentrate. The last thing Yuuri saw before blacking out was Viktor re-entering the bathroom.

DRAAAAAMMMMAAAAAA