CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED NINETY EIGHT

"This is where I came when I got off the plane the first time," Yuri explained, "...Moving up to Seniors and leaving home to train. ...I was...never any particular genius at skating...I just had a lot of free time on my hands, and about a billion reasons to want to leave Hasetsu." Those hazel eyes wandered across every wall and window of that airport wing, every escalator and sign, "Most of all, this is where I came when I really buckled down and got serious about wanting to compete on the same ice as you..."

Viktor could feel the shorter man wiggle a bit to get free, and let him go easily enough, watching quietly, but sliding one hand down the skater's arm to find his palm again.

Yuri turned to face him finally, finding the man's other hand to take it as well, lacing their fingers together though keeping his eyes low on that tan long-coat the whole time, "...All these times, I came through this place...never once did I ever think that, one day, I'd not only have gotten to actually meet you...but that I'd have gotten to skate with you... Everything that's happened since I last set foot in this building...going back to Japan with my tail between my legs, when I thought I'd given up skating for good...having never so much as told you my name with my own voice... And yet, now...I'm back again, not just as a top figure skater, but...with you...here by my side..."

.

Viktor tried to get closer to the second ambulance, 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!"

.

Barely dozing, Viktor suddenly became acutely aware of the absence before him on the large bed. In a worried panic, he quickly pushed up onto an elbow, seeking the space with his free hand in a desperate bit to find his injured husband. His breath caught in his throat when he couldn't find the man, but he paused when he heard a rustle in the closed space behind him, through the closed doors. The blankets were thrown off his legs after that, and he made a mad dash for the bathroom door, silently praying that the latch hadn't been put to and he could open it. Mercifully, it wasn't locked, and the panel pushed inward, revealing the sad sight before his eyes, "...Yuri, what are you doing...? Did you fall?" Viktor's tired-confused-urgent voice asked suddenly, quickly slipping in and closing the door again as his own eyes adjusted to the lights above them. He went down on a knee next to his partner, seeing the desperate look on the man's face, "Do you want help...?"

"Get...get this stuff off of me...!" The younger skater begged, falling back away from the counter and reaching his fingers for the wraps around his head, "It's too tight...!"

.

The Russian watched as his despairing spouse noticed the tears falling against his wrists and palms.

Yuri's voice cracked like a broken dam, and he couldn't stop himself from sobbing, "...How am I going to be able to compete like this...!? All...all that trouble, all that pain and heartache of trying to make it into the Final Six, trying to win Gold like you...and it just...stops here!?" He cringed tightly, "Just like that!?"

.

"You fell out of a spin, Yuri. What made you think attempting a quad was a good idea? You could've been hurt! There's no way to know you could've controlled that fall!" Viktor pointed out, hands going to his hips instead, "The Biellmann still makes you dizzy even when you're perfectly fine, but you have a head injury! You know you're vulnerable right now!"

"I felt like I could do it!"

"It was a quad LUTZ!" The Russian went on, right hand going out towards the skater as he took on an exasperated look, "You hit the rink wall the last time you did that one!"

"I know, but I had to try!"

"And you fell anyway!" Viktor wasn't sure if he was more upset than angry, but he felt a tightness in his chest. The gawking of the onlookers meant little and nothing at that moment, "You couldn't have done it on the Axel instead!? You just had to do it on the hardest jump in the latest part of your whole program!"

Yuri went down to his knees, fingers clasping together as he all but begged, "I'm sorry! I did what you wanted from the start but the Lutz was my last chance!"

A pale hand went back up to Viktor's forehead and he turned away from the defiant skater bitterly, not even sure what else to say.

"Please don't pull me from the Final, Viktor!"

The media and spectators were stunned into silence as they heard the lamentations go on.

"I just don't even know what to do." The silver skater said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he half-turned-away from his partner, "If you won't listen to me when it matters the most..."

"...Viktor...!" Yuri pleaded.

.

"...Y-You're...you're pulling me from...the Final, aren't you?" Yuri managed, his throat already clenched and painful as he looked down at his knees, barely managing to catch the edge of the mattress as he lowered down, fingers clenching around the blanket next to his leg, "...Th-that's why...you haven't held my hand or h-hugged me since...we did my SP..." He reached up one hand to pull his glasses away and rub his eyes on the back of that wrist, "...Th-that's why...you've b-been so distant..."

The Russian's heart ached to see his partner in such a state already, but he drew a breath and tried to compose himself. He reached for the chair tucked into the desk and pulled it around, sitting in it sideways and resting one arm over the back of it as he crossed his knees, "I don't feel like you're listening to me."

"I went against you on the Lutz! Th-that was it!" Yuri insisted, "I know it w-was stupid, but it was the only thing! I did everything else you said!"

"...And yet, when you said you'd listen if I told you not to do quads for the SP tonight, I...don't believe you." Viktor admitted, as much as it pained him to say so, and as much as it pained Yuri to hear it, "I get where you're coming from, I really do...I went against Yakov a thousand times growing up...even back when I was still fresh off my very first injuries. When I had a concussion and a fractured eye socket, and I couldn't see out of my left eye for a few days, and I had all those bad bruises on my back from where I hit the shoe-rack...I still jumped. I get it. But this isn't like that anymore. Yuri..." He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, reaching for his partner's hands and pulling them a bit closer, "Neither of us is in this alone anymore. When we do stupid things...we're not just hurting ourselves.

.

Yuri set those hands on his hips and glanced at his husband, giving a wink, "There are four gold medals between us...and I intend to take the fifth."

Viktor gaped at the man, but then smirked, sliding in and pulling Yuri closer with a hand behind his soulmate's lower back, "You do, huh?"

"That's right." He grinned back deviously, a little bit of Eros shining through with those half-lidded eyes, "And no one's going to stop me."

"I will."

"Oh? And who are you to try?" Yuri teased, hands sliding loosely over his partner's shoulders, arms straightening there as he loosely weaved his fingers together, "Who dares get between me and my Gold?"

"Viktor the Marvelous, Viktor the Magnificent...Viktor the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities."

"That changed tone suddenly."

"Well, you did say that I was going to bury you...I can't be marvelous and magnificent while I do so?"

"Bury me under Gold medals then."

"Hmmmnn..." The Russian hummed, stealing a quick kiss while he could, "If I must."

.

"This is such a pain... " Yuri complained, "After everything we went through so far this season...I feel like the universe is trying to sabotage me with this. Maybe I was never meant to win Gold at the Final...any Final."

"Maybe just take it down a notch?" Viktor suggested, "You already do more jump elements than basically anyone else."

"...I'm still trying to beat you though, too, remember?"

The Russian made a face, "There's a saying about how to avoid being eaten by bears...you don't actually have to out-run the bear...you just need to out-run the guy running next to you. Would it be so terrible to go for Silver instead? For the sake of your health? It would be much easier to overtake 3rd place than to gun for 1st..."

"So says the Silver medalist who moped through the entire victor lap at Worlds." Yuri made a face of his own, looking over at his spouse, "You've given me Gold Fever. Now that I know what it's like...nothing less tastes as sweet. Besides..." He slid the few inches between them to get closer and snaked an arm around his husband's lower back, pulling up the notepad with his free hand and pressing it to the man's chest lightly, "When you showed up in Hasetsu that first time...you said you'd make me win Gold at the Grand Prix Final. Not Silver."

.

"Yuri..." The naked silver legend said, extending an arm out towards the terrified and confused retired skater, "Starting today...I'm your coach. I'm going to make you win the Grand Prix Final." The extended hand came back, and both went to the man's damp hips. The wink behind those silver bangs was enough to break hearts, but in this case...it broke the younger man's brain.

All Yuri could do was scream.

.

The audience's cries died down to a whisper in the Russian's mind, replaced by the quiet beating of his own heart. He could hear every pulse rushing through his ears, feel the flutter of the vessels in his neck and arms, even in his legs. Everything was telling him to move, but he felt paralyzed at the same time.

"What's wrong?"

He found control over himself again, and Viktor took a step forward, lowering his gaze to watch his gait. One gold skate landed on the red carpet in front of the podium, followed by the second.

"V-Viktor!? What are you doing!?" Yuri whisper-yelled, following to the edge of his own podium and reaching, but unable to get his hand far enough. When he took a step down himself, Viktor turned his head back and gave a look that put the young skater back where he'd been a moment before, looking somewhat sheepish in spite of his mounting worry.

The audience's cheering died down to nothing as everyone looked on in horrified confusion. Even the other skaters and coaches watching from rink-side were mired with uncertainty at the Gold medalist's behavior.

The Russian went over to the stunned ISU officials, whispering something to the small group that neither Yuri nor Otabek could hear. But what he did next made the dialogue irrelevant. Viktor reached up to grip the lanyard around his neck and shoulders, and pulled it up and over his head, holding it in his hands before himself. The man who'd placed it there was still shocked, but then nodded, and pat the Russian's shoulder with one hand before turning and snapping his fingers at a few other officials. They were quick to scramble and rushed away to some unknown task. Viktor finally turned back and started moving towards the podium.

"Viktor, what are you doing!?" Yuri repeated, "Get back on the podium before you get in troub-"

"Yamete, Yuri... You're embarrassing me." Viktor answered simply, looking up with those nervous but resolute eyes, and reaching one hand forward to clasp for his husband's.

In a thoroughly stunned and perplexed manner, Yuri allowed the silver legend to guide him to his left, stepping up onto the center tier, and then pulling down gently to make him bow forward. Yuri felt his chest tighten as he leaned, and felt his partner's hands coming up to pull the lanyard from his neck.

Without hesitation, as soon as he realized what was going on, Otabek sprung across the back of the top of the podium and quickly moved to the second level where the Japanese skater had been a moment before.

Yuri turned his eyes as the vibration in the platform and sound of movement caught his attention, but Viktor pulled his focus back onto himself right away.

"Don't ever take your eyes off me." The Russian echoed those hallowed words. He let the medals hang from one arm each, the lanyards sliding down to the crook of his elbows as he bent his arms and reached up to cup his hands onto either side of his husband's head, leaning his own forward to press their foreheads together lightly. He held there a moment wordlessly, but eventually pulled away, turning his head slightly, "YURI PLISETSKY, GET ON THE PODIUM."

The blonde nearly jumped out of his skin to hear his name called suddenly, but quickly pulled his jacket off and threw it against the wall with the rest before hopping along the red carpet on his blade-guards. He paused in front of the Bronze tier, and looked at his older counterpart in nervous worry, "You're a crazy person, Viktor Nikiforov."

"Take advantage while it lasts, then."

"Mh..."

The silver legend took a step back, and reached for the Gold medal that was hanging from his right elbow. Straightening out the lanyard, he looked up again to his concerned spouse, "Yuri Nikiforov..." He started, pulling the ribbon over his thumbs to widen the loop.

The audience was starting to murmur again, making the Japanese skater a bit nervous, but Yuri eventually bowed his head down to avoid making his partner look more insane than he already did. He felt the strange sensation of a new lanyard coming over his head, and lifted his eyes to see the smile finally return to his soulmate's face, "...Viktor..."

"Almost two years ago, I came to your family's hot-spring resort, and made a promise that I would make you win the Grand Prix Final." The steadfast skater-coach started, "Tonight...it gives me great pleasure, and fills me with pride, to be able to present it to you now...the Gold medal."

Yuri was almost paralyzed where he stood, unsure if he was daydreaming or if it was all real. The weight of the medal felt heavy enough, but it didn't seem convincing enough. It wasn't until he felt those hands come back to curl around the back of his head, and pull him forward, feeling those warm lips on his own, that he finally accepted the reality of what was happening. He dropped down onto one knee on the podium, fingers lightly curling around his husband's upper arms where he could. He felt the Russian's hands come away from his head and go around his ribs instead, pulling him closer. His own arms went over the man's shoulders then, disbelief melting into gratitude as he clung harder than before. Tears rolled down his cheeks as the realization really set in, the kiss changing to a tight hug, the roar of the audience washing over them from all sides.

As they pulled apart again, Yuri shook his head and huffed a laugh, "I hope you didn't plan it this way... Winning the Gold just to forfeit it to me..."

Viktor shook his head, smiling through his own tears, "It honestly just hit me when I was standing on the podium. Sorry, Yuri... I'm being impulsive again..."

"I guess I can't curtail all your bad habits..."

The Russian shook his head, "Afraid not." He slid his hands down his partner's arms and let the man stand back up again, but then moved to his left, standing before Otabek instead, and gestured with one hand for the younger skater to lean forward.

"You're not going to kiss me, are you?" The Khazak asked skeptically.

"Pfft." Viktor guffawed, "No."

Drawing a breath, the dark horse leaned down, and let the silver legend pull the Bronze medal from his shoulders, replacing it soon after with the Silver.

"Last year, in Barcelona, you were robbed." Viktor explained, "We've shared the podium before...and I thought you deserved to medal again then, but it was taken from you by a skater whose arrogance nearly cost Yuri his place in this year's event outright. I'm not sad that he's not here tonight..." He went on, pausing a moment as Otabek stood upright again, "I don't think I ever thanked you for staying by Yuri when that accident happened. I heard you'd told JJ off before his stupidity hurt my husband."

"...I tried to, anyway. I had some choice words for him when he collided with Yuri, but I never did get to say them..."

"What were those?"

"Cyka blyat."

Viktor chortled a laugh, reaching up with one hand to rub a few lingering tears from his lashes while the other went forward to shake the skater's hand, "Da...cyka blyat."

"...What...does that even mean...?" Yuri wondered, one brow cocked in wonder. The Russian pat his leg as he passed in front of his tier, moving towards the 3rd.

"Every bad word you can think of, as both an insult and an exclamation."

Yurio watched quietly as his older team-mate finally stood before him, though it was odd to realize he was still shorter than Viktor even while standing on a podium with his skates on. He looked up those few inches, and watched as the older man pulled the Bronze lanyard off of the arm it was hanging from.

"This season so far has been pretty challenging..." Viktor started, holding the medal with both hands, looking at its glossy surface, "There have been moments where I've wondered about you. You've said and done a lot of pretty hurtful things...even if you meant well by some of it."

The teen felt a tightness in his stomach to hear the words, but he dared not interrupt.

"...A lot of things are going to be changing soon, and it may be stressful to a lot of us. You've come a long way in just the last couple of days though, and I have hopes that many of these changes will benefit you. Your new sisters...your whole new family...even though one of them is being a 'khu i right now...they're all going to help you, and support you, like you should've been from the beginning." Viktor went on, then raising his hands up to hold the medal before the teen, "And though I've been a hard-ass to you lately...I'll be there for you, too."

Emerald eyes blinked at the man, but Yurio nodded, and leaned his head down as those hands came closer with the lanyard.

He's not apologizing, and I understand why... I've taken out a lot of my anger on him and Katsudon...

He felt the fabric ribbon go over his braided hair, settling around the back of his neck, followed by a pair of hands resting on his shoulders. Looking up again, he saw those blue eyes looking back at him.

"Since you made it on the podium after all, it seems like the Team Skate is officially a Go." Viktor said, smiling in his own relaxed way, "Yuri and I were going to ask you to come with us to the Skate Club tomorrow to practice. You game?"

Yurio swallowed nervously, but nodded once, and felt the pat against one shoulder before rising to stand up.

"Good. We'll go over the details later then." The older Russian said, backing off and starting to clap along with the rising cheers of the audience. ISU officials clapped as well, and the results of the President's earlier orders came to fruition; the Japanese anthem played instead of the Russian, and the flags that rose up in celebration were switched out to reflect the new winners.

In disbelief, but grateful anyway, Yuri watched his country's banner rise up in the center of the group, the sound of that easily-recognized music playing over the roar of the crowd. He turned his eyes down towards his partner, seeing Viktor backing up towards the rest of the ISU brass, relieved that Viktor looked happier now than he did when he was still standing on the podium with them.

...Ever since I can remember, Viktor has always been full of surprises... But I think...other than showing up in Hasetsu in the first place...this one really takes the cake...