(Author's Note: Guys, please be careful about writing long strings of unbroken words/letters. After about 100 letters, they break the Comments page and I have to side-scroll to read everything else that folks say, until that comment falls off the page. Thxu~)
CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED FOURTY SIX
Yuri stuck to his side of the rink with Otabek, keeping a wary eye on the broken red half-way line that split the rink into its two sections. But, that didn't entirely stop JJ from trespassing on occasion. More often than not, the brash Canadian would do his X-path across the ice, skating around the inside of the short-side wall, and passing diagonally across the longest length of the rink, jumping at the end and sliding off to do it again elsewhere. Otabek had to move out of the way twice, narrowly avoiding being run into. Yuri, however, stuck to the rink-wall whenever he saw JJ coming.
Rolling his eyes, and seeing Otabek nearly mowed down a third time, the oldest skater on the ice finally had enough, "JJ, honestly, can you give us a bit of room here? You've had all day to practice."
"Just follow the same path I'm taking then, like in warm-ups."
"We're not even practicing jumps right now!" Yuri hollered, trying to be heard from clear across the rink. He wasn't sure JJ was listening though, see him vault into another quad at the opposite corner. With a grumble, Yuri nudged his head towards the long wall of the arena, hoping to carve out a spot of non-interference where he and Otabek could work on spins without being in the Canadian's way.
Still, hyperaware as Yuri was, his growing fatigue was starting to get the better of him. His four lattes and 3rd wind were starting to wear off, and he was starting to wonder if he could see sounds and hear colors. Whenever he turned his head or looked from one side of the rink to the other, his mind stopped processing the transition between the different spots, making him feel like he'd closed his eyes and opened them anew minutes later.
He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, but moved on anyway, keeping within the boundaries of his triangle of ice. He started to slide along the wall in reverse, trying to get a better feel for the perfect glide of his newly-sharpened blades, no longer needing to compensate for the worn-down bite that they'd had when he performed at NHK. He remembered the look on Yuuko's face when he and Viktor had presented their blades to her at the Ice Castle for resurfacing, and her mournful wondering at why neither of them bothered sharpening them on the road.
'We didn't want to give our skates to someone we didn't know.' Viktor had explained, 'A bad grinder or lack of skill, or even a tech looking to give their countrymen an unfair advantage, knowing they had our blades to sharpen...I'd rather deal with a dull skate than a sabotaged one.'
'You really think that would happen...?' Yuuko questioned, taking the first boot to the grinding wheel behind the counter.
'I'm Russian. Back in the day, a skater's score could be better or worse just depending on whether the judges were from a friendly or rival country as you. The Americans shafted me anytime they had a chance.' The silver legend went on, examining the cuts and broken edges on his remaining blade, 'And we're both Gold medalists now...I wouldn't want anyone handling our skates that we don't know personally somehow.'
'Do you want the groove as deep as it was before you left?' The Madonna wondered, looking at the length of the hollow with one eye as she held it up, 'Honestly, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to play hockey out there with a curve like this.'
'No, you can make it shallow again like before.' Viktor leaned over the counter casually, setting the second boot down, 'I won't be needing to gouge the ice anymore.'
Yuri looked down at the white frosted floor, feeling the cold of the arena on his exposed skin. The sound of other blades scratching along the frozen ground was like music, even if some of those blades belonged to someone that was temporarily annoying him. He lifted his head and looked to the opposite side of the rink, watching momentarily as Otabek worked on one of his sit-spins, careful to avoid the very center where JJ was still hopping by. The Canadian had landed a triple Axel in that case, and was sliding off backwards towards a rounded corner to Yuri's right.
He looked up and the arena was new to his mind again, and he shook his head to clear the weird feeling. The front of his brain felt like it was tingling from lack of sleep, and he could feel his hands shaking a little...but he pressed on. He tried to imagine his two failed performances; his sickly Free Skate in Canada, and his anxiety-broken Short Program in China. Eyes closed, and he raised his arms out to the side, seeing himself in those rinks again. He could see his husband and coach on the other side of the rink-wall, and could feel both the pain in his throat, and the fluttering in his chest from both of those days at the same time. His blades slid like razors across the ice, not even able to feel himself moving...or how he started to slip into the center of the rink. Twisting slightly, he lifted his free leg to start rotating, moving backwards in the slow spin.
He couldn't see JJ starting to building speed, going backwards as well, and coming right for him.
Otabek pulled out of his scratch-spin just seconds before seeing JJ dig in a toe-pick, and things moved in slow motion. His eyes went wide, seeing the collision before it happened, but being entirely unable to stop it.
JJ landed backwards, much like he'd started, and slid straight back along his planned route, right as Yuri was kicking his leg out to build up speed in his spin. In cruel irony, the moment the Canadian's toe-pick hit the ice, and the blade tilted back down onto the rocker, Yuri's golden-bladed-boot was 6 inches above the ice in that exact same spot, pointing in the younger figure's direction.
The hollow sound of two bodies hitting one another... the scream of one having drawn blood...the hollow CRACK of other's head hitting the ice...reverberated off the walls like a car accident.
Otabek could hear the ringing in his ears even without having been the one to get hit, "YURI!" He finally called out, seeing the older skater sprawling and sliding away, pushed by the inertia of the impact.
He was face-down, blood smeared across the frost where he'd skidded off. Red splatter went out from him in a circle where crimson vitae dripped from the edge of his razor-sharp right skate.
Ten paces further away, JJ was pushed up onto an elbow, having avoided a skull-hit on the rink floor when he fell, but seeing the blood dripping into a small puddle under his left ankle. His pant-leg and the leather of his boot were ravaged, and he could see the fibers of his sock poking out through the gash. There was light and ice visible through where he knew the edge of his Achilles' tendon should be.
Otabek was already yelling for the medics when JJ regained enough self-awareness to panic, but he just fell down onto his back and cried out in agony instead. He could hardly hear anything besides the empty, hollow ringing in his ears, making everything sound like it was happening under water.
"Yuri! Yuri, wake up!" The Kazakh was calling, reaching to move one arm closer to the skater's frame so he could roll him onto his back, but-
"DON'T TOUCH HIM!" Celeste screamed, rushing out with two others as they went grabbing for stretcher-boards and their gear. Otabek quickly pulled his hand back and moved away, watching anxiously as the first two neon-yellow vests started clambering out onto the ice towards them. Celeste was pulling on a plastic spiked-bottom 'sock' onto her carbon-fiber foot, quickly following after with better grip on the frost. She carried a cervical collar with her, and slid on her knees to Yuri's side, pausing a few inches away from him. One stretcher-board was already nearby, and a 4th medic slipped forward to join the 3 that were already there. Carefully, Celeste pulled the board around and set it on Yuri's other side, moving in on her knees to get closer, and glanced over at her new partner, "On three, hold his head. I'm going to rotate this shoulder up. We'll rotate him onto the stretcher slowly. Once he's on his back, I'll put the collar on him. Ready? One, two, three..." They did as said, slowly moving the unconscious skater onto his back, holding his head up and in line with the rest of his frame until the auburn-haired medic could fit the plastic stabilizer under his bleeding chin and around his neck.
Behind her, JJ had already been placed and secured on his own stretcher, and the two EMTs were starting to move him towards the rink walls. On the other side of the doorway, four more techs were showing up, bringing with them the two rolling stretchers that the two skaters would be transferred to. The first was already being lowered closer to the ground, and as the groups converged, the Canadian skater was moved expertly from the temporary board to the gurney that would take him outside. Again, he was strapped in, and one EMT started packing the bleeding gouge with sterile gauze, another yelling for people to get out of the way as they pushed him swiftly down the hall.
Celeste and the second tech carried Yuri's unconscious frame to rink-side, carefully lifting him to the second gurney, and pulling it up to transport-height after buckling him in. They waited a moment though, and the former Air Force medic pulled out a small flashlight, shining it into both of the skater's eyes to check for a response. Gloved hands rifled through his hair gently, trying to find the cut that was painting the side of his face red, noting the one on the side of his chin that bled down his neck. A blood-pressure cuff was wrapped around one arm and an oxygen saturation monitor clipped to one finger. Without a second to spare, they started pushing the wheeled stretcher down the hall to follow after the one that had already gone.
"There's two ambulances already outside. They should be parking at the southeast entrance right now." One of the EMTs was saying as they moved off, "What happened?"
"Collision. The conscious one jumped right into this one while he was spinning." Celeste explained
"Names?"
" This one is Yuri Kats-...er, Yuri Nikiforov. The other one is Jean-Jacque Leroy."
Otabek watched in stunned silence as the last stretcher was moved out of sight and into the main hall. In the newfound quiet of the practice rink, he looked around at the splatters of blood left behind, and the trails where the two skaters had been moved away. He turned his head as he heard people starting to barrel down the stairs from the waiting area above the rink; JJ's parents yelling, other skaters and coaches trying to figure out what happened.
Bright red blood trickled from under Yuri's hair as he was whisked down the corridor. Celeste pulled the first wad of gauze away and was reaching for another pack when she spotted a certain silver-haired and blonde-headed pair watching them in wide-eyed shock as they passed. She retuned her focus though and set the second pack of absorbent white fluff onto her patient's head.
They moved around the corner and out of the sight of the two shocked senior athletes, but when they paused to have to open the doors to get outside, she looked back and saw them both running after them, sans the plates they'd been carrying before. There was no time to wait for them to catch up though, and the medical group moved out into the cold Detroit night air, the flashing bright lights of the two ambulances bouncing off every wall and window and face. A few pedestrians that had been waiting outside were watching in confusion, as were the event staffers who'd seen the two stretchers go by. A few of them, wearing suits rather than vests, were speaking quietly to one another as they watched the whole thing unfold.
"What's going to happen to me!?" JJ was yelling as his gurney was placed up near the open back doors of the first bright-yellow medical vehicle, "Is it going to be cut off!?"
"Please remain calm, sir, we will assess you on the way to the hospital." The paramedic answered, looking to make sure that the ambulance wouldn't suddenly move again as he reached for the latch that would fold up the legs and wheels of the transport.
"WHAT DID YOU DO!?" Viktor's voice suddenly came, panicked and shrill and aimed straight at the Canadian.
JJ looked up, hectic and scared enough as it was, but even more so when he heard the Russian screaming at him, "I didn't do anything! I was just practicing like the others!"
"Viktor, we don't even know if h-"
"YOU MORON." The furious silver skater barked, "WERE YOU REALLY SO DESPERATE TO SHOW OFF HOW DAMN GOOD YOU ARE THAT YOU RAN INTO HIM ON PURPOSE OR SOMETHING!?"
"I didn't do anything!" JJ insisted, feeling the gurney rock slightly as he was lifted and shoved into the back of the flashing vehicle. The ambulance's siren started blaring, and the doors were quickly pulled closed. It started to drive away from the building, blindingly-bright lights shining red and blue as it moved out towards the street.
Viktor tried to get closer to the second one, barely catching a few glimpses of his unconscious partner on the stretcher. He could see where blood was absorbing into the gauze pressed to the top right of his forehead, but with all the activity around him, it was hard to see much else. Like JJ's, Yuri's gurney was pushed up right onto the back of the ambulance, the wheels being picked up and the whole thing being shoved inside.
"Yuri!" The Russian called out desperately, trying to claw his way closer through the small group.
One paramedic tried to push him back, "Sir, this is no place for you right now, please back up."
"That's my husband in there! Let me go!"
Celeste could hear him, even as she was trying to secure the bed to the floor of the vehicle.
"YURI!" Viktor called again, more panicked than before.
"Viktor, we have to give them room t-"
"Chris, I hav...Chris, let me go!"
The Swiss skater was trying to pull his terrified friend back, but Celeste finally looked up and pushed towards the doors, reaching out her hand, "Mr. Nikiforov! Come on!"
Blue eyes widened, but a path was immediately cut for him to go by, and he dropped his gear at Chris' feet as he rushed through. He quickly took hold of the hand and let the woman pull him up into the back of the ambulance, trying to find a place to sit in the tight little space. The skater glanced back out again and saw the younger figure already leaning to pick the discarded pile of skates and the backpack up out of the snow, "I'll call you when I can! Tell Phichit what happened! I don't have his number!"
The doors were pushed shut by the other EMTs, and the back pounded with a fist twice to let the driver know to go. Chris watched in stunned silence as the second bright-yellow van pulled away, and before long, vanished around a corner, beyond his line of sight. He swallowed nervously as he could still hear the sirens barking through the cold night, and looked around at all the stunned and confused faces around him, many looking at him for answers. Having none, he just hefted the golden-bladed skates and backpack over his shoulder and started making his way back inside. He glanced up at where the Leroy elders were getting information from one of the paramedics, trying to keep it together so they could drive over to whatever hospital the ambulance was going to be driving their son to.
By the time Chris pushed back through the doors, and had his phone out looking to text Phichit about the night's unexpected events, he spotted the Thai skater running up alongside several other people...including the Canadian's panic-ridden wife. Both of them came right up to him, looking as anxious and nervous as anyone might given the lack of information, each of them asking in hurried words what had happened.
The Swiss skater shook his head, "I'm not sure. Viktor and I weren't there when it happened. We just saw the two carts go by."
"Where are they now?" Phichit asked.
"Where's JJ!?" Isabella cried, tears in her eyes already, "I heard there was blood!"
"Whatever happened, I don't think JJ will be skating this weekend." Chris answered, "Viktor and I saw that he had a bloodied left ankle. We think he and Yuri collided somehow."
The frantic woman held her hands over her mouth, but suddenly caught sight of JJ's parents where they were still standing outside, and pushed past to get to them.
The older skater watched her go out the corner of his eye, but then turned back to Phichit, who to that point had tried to remain calm. He adjusted where the Russian's backpack sat on his shoulder, "Viktor went with Yuri in the ambulance. I don't think they're coming back tonight."
"Yuri..." The younger skater sighed worriedly, "How badly was he hurt? Did you see?"
"He got knocked out. That's about all I know." He paused a moment, wondering what sense there would be in mentioning the blood he'd seen, but decided not to, "...We should go back and get the rest of their things. There's no sense worrying until we hear back from Viktor."
"Do you think Yuri can still compete?"
"There's no telling right now."
"...Ahhhhh this is horrible...!" Phichit cried nervously, "I hope he's okay! ...JJ too...!"