CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED FOURTY FOUR

By the time they'd finally gotten back to the event arena, they had seen 7 different locations and met with nearly 30 people. It was exhausting, and as they pulled into the Little Caesar's Arena parking lot, it was close to 8pm. Yuri was riding the adrenaline of his 4th latté and his 3rd wind, feeling the energy rising up in him as he saw the spotlights of the rink shining high into the dark sky. His hands shook a little bit, but otherwise he felt mostly normal-ish.

Mostly.

Bags were grabbed from the trunk, lanyards slipped over heads, and the trio made their way into the building, slipping in through a Participants entranceway to the side of where they'd gone in earlier in the day.

Viktor felt a buzz on his phone, and reached into his coat to pull it out, smiling as he realized it was a text message from a certain Swiss friend. He adjusted how his bag sat on his shoulder and started thumbing a reply, though he turned his eyes slightly to glance at his partner, "Chris is here. He's wondering if we're AWOL."

"After all the pictures Phichit-kun posted?"

"Well, the pictures I posted showed how we weren't here..." The Thai skater pointed out.

"Isn't that kind of the definition of AWOL?" The Russian wondered, "Absent without leave? Chris sure didn't give us permission to skip all-day practice like this." He laughed and shrugged as they stepped up towards the doors, pulling one side open and holding it as the two younger skaters went through before following after.

There wasn't much that separated the outside world from the inner workings of the ISU Grand Prix Final machine. Event staffers were running up and down the halls, coordinating last-minute adjustments or putting down the finishing touches on the event's decor. Signs along the hallways guided the skaters to the prep area, where they started to see a number of familiar faces.

Unfortunately, two of those faces belonged to the Leroy elders.

"JJ is still here." Phichit sighed and turned to look at his friend, "So much for that idea."

"He's been here for 3 hours. If he's been practicing since we left, then he's probably worn out by now and will be leaving soon." Yuri offered, "I can't imagine he would've taken it easy when any other skaters are here, just on the off-chance Viktor comes back tonight."

"He's done it before." The Russian muttered, "He assumes that if Chris is here, I won't be far behind." He turned to set his hand gently on his partner's back, stroking there gently before giving a slight nudge to usher him forward, "He's not entirely wrong. Things are a bit different now, but back in the day, Chris and I were tied at the hip once we got to events."

"...Yeah..." The younger figure nodded with a reluctant sigh, "I remember all the times he tried to get me to tag along on your shenanigans, but I'd always find a reason to leave. Those few times he managed to get us in the same room together were mostly because he stopped telling me you guys were meeting up."

Viktor shook his head and gave a quiet laugh, "I'm still surprised you made it up onto that podium in Canada, knowing all this stuff that I do now."

"...Well..." Yuri looked down at the floor a little, but then reached for his event badge and looked at his photo on the glossy front, "...When it was for skating business, it felt different. Like how I don't usually seize up when doing interviews, even if I do when meeting new people. When we were on the podium, we didn't...really have to talk to each other. We were there to get our medals, not socialize, so I could still kind of put myself apart from it all." He admitted, letting go of the badge to sneak that arm around his partner's lower back, getting under the backpack, "But I'd honestly go back and do it all again the same way if I knew it'd get to this same point."

"We need to be more efficient in the next life." The Russian suggested, settling his own arm across his partner's shoulders, "You were right under my nose for years and I had no idea."

"I'll try to avoid being born with 'soul-crushing anxiety' next go-'round."

They moved on through the restaurant-esque prep area, making their way through numerous team tables, and seeing out through a glass-lined mezzanine to the red-walled practice rink down below. The far wall had a massive painting of the Red Wings logo in white, popping out from the red it was emblazoned on. [Detroit Red Wings - Where Champions Are Made] was painted in cursive within a wide white band that went around the entire room. Hanging on the walls were numerous flags detailing different hockey victories over the decades. Surrounding the small hockey rink were a scant 300 or so spectator seats, and only on the one long-side of the ice. The rink itself was styled with protective Plexiglas dividers rising up a good 5ft from the top of the regular wall, and the ice was painted with start-markers.

"You'd almost think this place was build for a hockey team." Yuri teased.

"What gave it away?" Phichit wondered, "The 'Players Only' locker room? Or was it the life-size replica of one of the goalies we saw outside earlier today?"

"I'd say it was because the place smells like rubber hockey pucks."

They moved on through until they found an empty table, and set their gear on top of it. Viktor glanced around, looking out for that blonde-haired head, but hadn't spotted it yet. Instead, coming up the stairs, he spotted Yakov and Lilia coming up from the practice rink.

"Vitya...!"

The Russian skater waved, abandoning his gear for the moment to go over and greet his elder, "Yakov, I didn't think you'd be around until Yurio got here."

"We figured we'd take a look at the place while we wait. He won't be in until very late anyway." The gruff older man explained simply, "Things worked out somewhat poorly for him, so he won't be getting much sleep or practice before things start tomorrow."

Viktor nodded warily, "Yeah, he was shuffled around a lot between people unexpectedly. We did the best we could, but trying to buy plane tickets on such short notice can be extremely expensive." He leaned forward and cupped his hand around his mouth, "Getting that ticket for Yuri's friend was nearly $7000US, and that was with almost an entire month's notice." He leaned back upright again and spoke normally, "I'd have gotten Yurio a ticket to come with us as well if I knew he was going to need it."

"Well, don't start selling yourself on the streets to please people." Yakov asked half-seriously, "We're just glad Yuratchka's trip didn't cost extra money for any of you. Getting the ISU to reimburse for a flight when it had already paid for one...they don't like that. They sure as borscht won't reimburse a Business class flight like the ones you insist on taking."

"Yeah..." Viktor looked back at his partner, watching quietly for a moment as he unpacked their skates, but then turned back, "At least Yurio sleeps well on planes. He should be fine."

The elder Russian nodded, patting his sometimes-on-again-sometimes-off-again pupil on the arm as he and his ex-wife moved by, "Da. Anyway...we're going to head back to the hotel. I want to try and get some sleep before he shows up. Don't stay up too late, Vitya."

"We won't. Goodnight."

Blue eyes watched the duo step away, but then lit up excitedly as he spotted Chris coming in the same way the others were leaving. The Swiss skater saw him just as quickly, but then caught a glance of Yuri and Phichit at the table somewhat in the middle between them. He gave a wink and brought a finger up over his lips, nudging his head towards the hapless skater. Viktor gave a curious smile, and watched as the man stepped over and around the other side.

Despite Chris' bright white and red Team jacket, he managed to slide up behind the unsuspecting Yuri, and gently settled a hand on his back. Phichit had his back turned by that point, looking out through the Plexiglas windows to watch the other skaters sliding around the ice. He only turned around again when he heard the telltale squeak-scream come from his older friend, finding the man nose to nose with the Swiss skater.

Chris had slid his hand up the figure's back, around the side of his neck and under his chin, lifting his face like Viktor might...and then gazed upside-down into those hazel wells with his own sultry, half-lidded eyes. His free hand came up to softly pull the blue-rimmed glasses away, and flicked them shut where he held them.

"Ch-Chris!"

"You've made me wait such a long time, Yuri. You don't write, you don't call..."

Viktor couldn't help but laugh, watching as his spooked partner clenched up in paralyzed terror like he always did when the Swiss skater caught him unawares. But, the Russian swooped in to save him...by sliding up to where Chris was still slightly leaned over, and parked right next to him. Thigh to thigh on one side, the silver skater's hand slid down the man's other leg, catching his attention rather quickly as he leaned a bit forward over the skater's side, "I believe you have my husband." He purred, snatching the glasses with his free hand while he was there, putting them onto his head for safe keeping.

"And I believe you have me." Lime-green eyes turned back, and those hands let the younger figure go as Chris rose back up to his full height. Without missing a beat, he took the hand caressing his leg and held it up, turning around to set it on his waist instead, and then reached out for the Russian's other hand to hold it up, as though they were getting ready to dance at some ball, "Viktor."

"Chris." The older skater answered.

Yuri and Phichit watched in amused but embarrassed confusion as the two senior skaters twisted around each other. At least, until the blonde had cupped a hand around the Russian's back and dipped him down in reverse. Finding his partner there a mere few inches away, but upside-down from his vantage, Yuri blinked and did the only thing he could think of while Viktor was right there...and kissed him quickly before he was pulled back up again.

Chris laughed and pulled the man close to his chest, "It's been too long."

"Right?"

The blonde's hands slid down his 'partner's' arms and took his hands, bringing them up slightly between them, "So much has happened since I last saw you in France. Yelling off a rooftop in utter despair in China, the family trouble in Japan making you jump your way back into the record books... Viktor, bae, dearest friend, beloved rival..." He closed his eyes and tried to look sincere through his smile, "Lay thine head upon my bosom and take shelter, for I am here now."

Slate eyes blinked, but the Russian comically did as bid, reaching both arms around the taller figure's frame and nuzzling the side of his face against the man's chest.

Chris just pat that silver head affectionately, soothingly, "There, there...you may cry now, if you so wish. I will protect your sorrow."

Yuri wasn't sure whether to laugh or not, so he just looked on at the spectacle with a well-meant but thoroughly confused smirk. He turned to see whether Phichit was taking pictures like he normally did, but...for once, the Thai skater was refraining. His expression changed then, worrying for his friend all over again.

It's the first time he's seen Chris since they got the results about the GPF line-up...

The Japanese skater pulled the bottom hem of his jeans down over the tops of his skates and pushed back up to stand, "Phichit-kun...did you want to come down to rink-side?"

"Huh?" The Thai skater jerked slightly like he'd been pulled out of a daydream, but smiled like he usually did and shook his head, "I was going to wander around for a bit while you guys practiced. I figured it would be easier to check the place out while it's still mostly empty. If I'm not back before you're finished, just text me, okay?"

Yuri nodded reluctantly, "...Sure." He reached up for the lanyard around his neck and pulled the badge off, offering it to the younger skater, "Here. Maybe it'll save you some trouble if people think you're not just some random person walking around."

"Oh...yeah, thanks." Phichit reached out for it and slipped it over his head. He held the badge in his hands for a moment, nodded, and turned slowly on his heel to head out again. He made it only a few steps before he heard Chris calling for him though and rushing up to meet him. Standing in the open mouth of the hallway, the two exchanged a few quiet words before the Swiss skater opened his arms and leaned in to hug the younger skater.

Viktor slid up next to his quiet partner, resting a hand against the man's back, "You okay? You got really still all of a sudden."

Yuri looked aside, but then shook his head and leaned into the man lightly, "I feel bad wishing that Chris had scored lower. I really wanted Phichit-kun to be here in competition with me... Seeing how he's just watching us all now, from the outside...it breaks my heart a little. He tried so hard. This whole thing is just one big taunt to him now...we might never get a chance to compete together in this city again."

The Russian slipped both arms around his husband's lithe frame and settled his chin on one shoulder, "He'll get into the Final more consistently once some of us fossils start dropping off." He said reassuringly, "Then, it'll be the you, him, Yurio, and Otabek stealing the lime-light for years at a time, while Chris and I sit off to the side waxing poetic about days gone by like a couple of old men."

The younger figure drew in a breath, watching the unheard conversation still taking place ahead of him. He turned within the encircling arms and raised his own over his partner's shoulders, holding there for a moment, feeling the slow warm breaths against his neck, "...Yeah...maybe..." He pulled out of the hug and leaned in for a quick kiss before stepping off, "I guess I'll go hit the ice."

"Mh. We'll be right behind you. I just need to get my practice clothes out so I can change."

"Okay. See you down there, then."

Another quick kiss, and skate-guards thunked along the carpeted floor towards the stairs that lead to the rink on the lower floor. Yuri could hear the sound of a backpack being unbuckled and unzipped as he moved around the corner to the stairwell, but his attention went down to the rink. There were only 2 skaters practicing by that point in the night; Otabek and JJ. They each kept to their own halves of the rink, from what Yuri could tell.

You'd hardly know they ever trained together if you didn't know they trained together once.

The sound of his blade-guards changed as the hollow thumping of the stairs changed to the more rigid taps on the concrete floor. He looked around the rink from that new vantage point, seeing the seating from the ground, and as he turned, a massive one-way window directly under the 'club' area where he'd just come from. On the glass was a huge image of the Stanley Cup, where it was being held up by several hands, likely those of Red Wings players. Up and to the left was a score-board, and below, a number of goalie nets that had been moved out of the way.

Just in front of him and slightly around the curve of the rink wall, Yuri saw the open gateway to get to the ice, and started making his way towards it. He heard the telltale sound of a jump being landed, and looked out through the Plexiglas wall to see that it was Otabek, sliding off backwards to the unheard sound of his Short Program. When the Kazakh caught sight of him though, he quickly twisted out of his practice and came sliding up towards the open doorway in greeting, looking stoic as always.

"Hey Yuri."

The older skater bowed his head lightly in return, "Been a busy night so far?"

"Hard to tell. I haven't been here that long." Otabek answered, taking the moment for what it was worth and letting himself have a breather, rubbing the back of an arm against his forehead, "Thought I'd come late to avoid the crowd. I guess everyone else thought the same thing."

Yuri gave a nervous smile, "Yeah...Phichit-kun and I took Viktor on the grand tour of Detroit. We used to train here, so we were meeting up with all the people we used to know."

"Where are they now?" The Kazakh wondered, looking up to the windows on the second floor but not seeing much beyond the edge of the floor.

"Phichit-kun went to go look around the arena. Viktor should be down in a minute. We ran into Chris upstai-"

"...Yuri?"

Otabek looked aside first towards the sound of the voice, but then looked back at the man across the threshold from himself. When he saw how the skater had gone wide-eyed and pale, he returned his gaze to the speaker.

"...Oh my God, it really is you. I thought I recognized your voice..." The words went on. Approaching slowly, but getting closer with each step, was the distinct sound of a shoe...and then a metal click. The voice was soft, quiet. The woman it came from tall and thin, but strong-looking, with auburn hair tied tightly into a bun behind her head. She wore light-colored blue-jeans and a black felt jacket, and over that, the neon-yellow vest of the event's medical team with its red cross icon emblazoned on the chest.

"...Do you know her from somewhere...?" Otabek wondered, leaning in slightly to whisper.

Yuri couldn't form words to answer, simply turning his head as slowly as possible until he caught sight of the slightly-older woman standing some 20 paces away, around the curve of the rink. She was still slightly obstructed by the raised transparent wall, but she slowly came into the open, one foot and one blade at a time.

"...It's been a long time." She said, keeping her distance, "...How...have you been?"

Cherry-hazel eyes looked the woman from top to bottom, then back again, "...I've..." He started, feeling his throat go dry. He coughed to clear it and turned a bit more to face her properly, "I've been good." He gestured his open palm towards the blade she stood on, "You...look like you've seen some rough days."

She glanced down at her artificial leg and twisted it slightly, the black carbon-fiber reflecting light on it where it curved like a C under her pant leg, "...Oh...yeah." She looked back up again though, "Lost it on year 3. Was sent home after that. It's not all bad, though... I got to swap the sandbox for the Black Forest."

"...Black Forest?"

"It's in Germany." She explained, "There's military bases out there where we stage before going to Afghanistan. I got MedEvaced there after I decided it was a good idea to step on an IED." The tall woman fidgeted a little where she stood, "But hey, I got to be an Air Force medic for a while...so...yay me? I guess?" She gave a nervous laugh, "That's why I'm here now." She thumbed at her neon yellow vest, "Got drafted from the hospital to be part of event staff, in case someone decides to be just as smart as me."

Otabek side-eyes the skater next to him, and coughed lightly to get Yuri's attention. When the man turned slightly, the Kazakh leaned in to whisper, "Who is she?"

The anxious figure resigned himself to his fate and gestured a hand between them, "...Otabek, this is Celeste. We were friends back when I used to train here full time, years ago." He turned to the medic and gestured the same in reverse, "Celeste, this is Otabek...he's competing in the Final with me."

She reached a hand out to firmly shake, but then pulled back again, keeping a safe birth between herself and Yuri, "...You're competing?" She looked at him skeptically, "I didn't see your name on the rost-...wait...no way." She pointed at the skater with a nervous hand, "...You're the Yuri Nikiforov I saw on the registry? I mean, I saw that it was a Yuri representing Japan, but I didn't think that...you would've..."

He nodded after a fashion, not really sure how to respond otherwise. To his relief, he spotted Viktor and Chris coming out of the stairwell a ways behind the woman and saw the Russian wave. Yuri didn't wave back though, his arms feeling like lead weights against his sides. Viktor gave a weird look, seeing the dread-laced expression on his face, and quietly started approaching, careful not to draw attention.

"...Wow. Don't you think that's taking it a bit too far?" Celeste went on, having no clue about the men coming up behind her, "I know you're a huge fan of Viktor's, but taking his name for yourself? Don't you think that's a bit creepy?"

Otabek side-eyes the skater again, noting how he balled up his right hand and moved it slightly behind his back.

"I can't even imagine what he probably thinks about it." The woman continued, not really noticing Yuri's discomfort either, "Seeing his own last name on the roster twice, but knowing full well that your name was Katsuki before...? What were you thinking, Yuri? I know you were a big fan of his, but isn't this obsession of yours going off the rails now...?"

Viktor sneered a bit where he stood, "Who are you and why are you talking to my husband like that?"

The medic spun on her metal foot, startled into a loud gasp. She spotted that silver hair and blue eyes though and immediately recognized who it was, "V-Vik..."

"Mr. Nikiforov, if you don't mind." He pushed around her, though Chris stayed where he was, effectively sandwiching the woman in between them. The silver Russian stepped up close to his partner, whispering to him as he set a hand gently on the man's chest, "Why is this woman talking to you like this? Who does she think she is? Is she someone you know?"

Celeste just gaped at what she saw, unsure how to react given the legendary skater's tender affection for the athlete she'd known so long ago.

"She's someone I knew." Yuri corrected quietly, "It's Celeste."

Viktor's eyes went wide, and he cocked his head up in surprise, turning his gaze suddenly to look at the woman a bit more critically. He saw the prosthetic leg, and vaguely recalled mention at the Skate Club that the woman in question had gone with the military, but it didn't matter and he turned back to his partner, "Is she bothering you? You were starting to get anxious again."

"I...I don't know...she just popped up out of nowhere while I was talking to Otabek." He answered, reaching up a hand to press against his forehead, tufts of hair weaving between his fingers, "She didn't realize I was skating, and when it came up, started giving me grief about my last name like she thought I'd done it for fun on my own. As if I would just change my last name to yours for the heck of it-"

"Say no more." The Russian reassured, raising his hand from where it had settled on his husband's chest to brush it gently over the skater's cheek instead, fingers curling lightly around the back of his head and neck to bring him forward into a kiss. When he let go, he turned on his heel and put himself squarely between Yuri and the medic now in front of him. His gaze was rather serious, which caught even Chris off guard a bit where he was watching from the background, "I understand that you knew Yuri in the past." Viktor started, eyes unblinking as he looked past his silver bangs, "But I'll ask you nicely only one time to leave him alone. I won't tolerate someone shaming him."

"I wasn't...I mean...I didn't..." She stammered, feeling appropriately cornered.

"Viktor, you don't have to scare her-" Yuri attempted, but the Russian was undeterred, simply holding out his arm to keep him behind it.

"Please go." Viktor pointed back the way he assumed Celeste came, "My husband doesn't need this kind of stress before a competition. He's already been through enough."

A few tense moments passed, but the stunned woman just nodded and slinked away, heading back around the short end of the rink for the doorway she'd come through previously, on the far side of the one-way glass. All five skaters watched her go until she was out of sight.

"Way to go, Viktor! You've been out here 30 seconds and you already made someone cry!" JJ called from the far side of the ice.

The Russian rolled his eyes, but didn't respond.

Yuri drew in a nervous breath, "...Well, that's just great."

"Don't think about it." Viktor advised, turning back to pull the man close, fingers going up through his hair, "If she tries to talk to you again, just tell me and I'll deal with it."

"I think you already did."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

The younger skater gave a skeptical look, but then nodded.

"Chin up, Yuri." Viktor said, putting a finger under it to lift the man's eyes again, "You haven't even set blades to ice for the first time since we got here. I won't let you worry about anything other than how much I'm going to make you work for the Gold." He gave a wink, "Right?"

Brown eyes blinked a few times, but the figure did his best to put the encounter to the back of his mind, "Right."

"I'm going to go change and find some snacks with Chris. We haven't really eaten since we landed. You have a craving for anything?" The Russian wondered, doing his best as well to shelve the situation and forget it, "Something salty maybe?"

"Ah...sure... Get me some nachos if you can find any."

"Done."