CHAPTER THREE HUNDRED NINETEEN

Packing up the hotel room took almost no time at all, at least compared to when they were packing up after their earlier events. Only needing enough gear for the weekend made it easy. With the room empty, they made their way down the concierge, turned in their key-cards, and stowed their luggage until it was truly time to leave.

They made their way over to where the last of the breakfast buffet was still set out, set their coats over the seats at the table they were assigned to, and made their way over to what was left of the buffet line.

Yuri poked at a few of the shriveled pancakes that were stashed at the back of a tray, "Hm...maybe we should've come down earlier. You can tell they stop caring when they're about to switch over to the lunch menu."

"We could always come back when they've changed it out." Viktor suggested, looking at the fare but not picking anything, "None of this looks particularly appetizing anyway."

The gurgle of a piteously empty stomach answered that, and Yuri could do little more than whine, "I need food now, or I'll die."

"...I'm going to go sit then." The Russian said simply, taking a half-step closer to put a hand against the small of his partner's back, and leaned over a shoulder to kiss one cheek. He stepped off without another word, making his way through the arrangement of occupied tables to find their own again.

Yuri watched the man go quietly, holding his near-empty plate in his hands. The table wasn't that far off, and he could see clearly how Viktor sat, half-glanced at a menu, and then set it down again to slouch in his chair. The sight of it gave Yuri a cold chill behind his neck.

This is exactly the sort of thing I was worried about last year, when I told him we should end things. Having him stay on as my coach, even though I asked him to come back to competition, too...it's just strangling him.

Viktor had closed his eyes by then, and looked as though he'd nodded off at the table. Yuri's brow furrowed at the sight of it. He turned his head briefly to look back at the remnants of the banquet, and despite the gurgling ache in his stomach, he abandoned the line and started wandering back to the table as well.

We're barely a third of the way through the season and he's completely wiped out. The rat-race won't end for another 3 months, and the Olympics in the middle of it just makes it even worse than normal.

He set his barely-stacked plate on another table as he passed, hiding it within the mess of the previous patrons that hadn't been cleaned up yet, and stepped up quietly behind his partner. So far as Yuri could tell, Viktor had no idea he was there.

I wish there was something I could do to ease the burden. He's just so weighed down by all this other unrelated garbage...

Yuri leaned down and slid his arms over his husband's shoulders, crossing them over the man's chest as he pressed his cheek to the side of Viktor's neck.

Viktor himself was a bit surprised by it, quietly muttering Yuri's name as he half-rose from his dozing. He settled again though a second after, and reached his right hand up to gently clasp around one arm resting against him, "...You didn't bring anything back. I thought you were starving?"

"I'll just order something from here." Yuri answered quietly, turning his face to kiss the spot on Viktor's neck instead, then hugging a bit tighter, "When we finally get home tomorrow, I'm going to dig a moat around the house, and put up signs warning people to stay away for at least a week. I'm not going to let anyone near you."

"That's really sweet of you, but...the only person I'd want to avoid isn't going to be there anyway. We'll all be half a planet apart."

"I wish I could understand better why you guys are butting heads like this." Yuri answered, sliding to the side to find a seat, and pulling it around the curve of the table to sit closer, setting his hand on his partner's leg like he often did when they drove, "Or maybe I just wish I could read you better. You're so good at hiding when you're really upset about something. If I didn't already know that you and Mikhail had gotten into it the other night, I don't know that I'd be able to figure it out."

"It's not your fault," The Russian reassured, curling his fingers around the hand on his thigh, "I'm not so sure I'm even consciously aware of how I suppress things. I've done my best to give my uncle the benefit of the doubt since he popped up after Four Continents last year. When I found out he'd been hurt, I really wanted things to work out. Since then though, I..." His words trailed, and he clasped the hand a little tighter, "I'm not sure it's meant to be between him and I. I've spent most of my life trying to put the first 12 years of it behind me. Mikhail is just a walking reminder of how everything went wrong before...and especially since learning about how he was most of the reason why it happened..." Viktor slouched a little in his seat, drawing in a reluctant sigh of a breath, "Maybe it'll get better over time. Right now though...I just feel really sensitive regarding everything about him. I need the time away from him before Nationals to get my head together again. I'm not even sure I'd care if he apologized before we left today."

"You both wounded each other pretty deeply this weekend." Yuri agreed quietly, leaning against the man's shoulder and bringing his free hand up to hold to the arm below it, "I thought I could mediate this better, but maybe the best thing I can do is just let it go for now."

"...Were you trying to mediate last night?"

Yuri drew a nervous breath, but nodded, "I said to leave it all to me, so I gave it my best effort when I had the chance, even though I was dog-tired. He's not mad at you because of what you said. He's mad that you said it all in front of everyone we know."

"I did that to all the people I called out though...even you."

"I know, but what you said to me wasn't half as damning as what you said to him. Plus..."

"Plus?"

Yuri lifted his head and set his chin against the shoulder he'd been leaning on, "Basically everyone else that you called out already knew the mistakes they'd made, and you were telling them to get over it. Him though...you were pointing out his errors for the first time, shaming him for things he didn't even realize he'd done wrong until that moment, in front of a crowd...in front of his kids, someone he loves, and someone he's trying to be a good role-model for. The last three weekends in a row for him have been nothing short of a disaster, and he was already getting the gears from Minako-sensei about it. Then you threw him under the bus, too...and you're the main reason he's even around."

"If he hadn't let the fact that I started calling him Mimi again get to his head, maybe he wouldn't have tripped over his own feet so much." Viktor pointed out, "When I told him at Worlds that there were rules for staying in my good graces, he seemed to take it seriously...right up to the second I started to trust him. The moment I called him Uncle Mimi, he basically went straight to my father and started planting seeds, making plans to bring him into my life again, even though I had explicitly told him not to. Then he falls off that damn roof right before Cup of China, and I, in my naïvety, fell straight into the pity-trap to go back and get him for NHK."

"...Things with your father worked out in the end though."

"Yuri, my love..." Viktor started, turning his face to nose his partner's cheek, "Things worked out with my father because of you."

Hazel eyes looked down a bit; he wasn't so sure if the circumstances were a good thing or not anymore.

"You were the one who picked up the shattered pieces of my reality and put them back together again." Viktor went on, "You were the only reason I made it through that ordeal intact. If everything that happened at NHK happened at Russian Nationals instead, when you can't be there? I don't...know that I'd still be here."

"Don't say stuff like that."

"I can't lie to you about how that whole thing made me feel. There were some places so dark and deep though...if it had been anyone else...Sophia, that Ice Dancer from ages back, the rabid fan...I'd have felt completely alone." Viktor explained, "When I'm in those bad places, you're the only person I can really hold on to. You are my North Star. So when I go to Nationals on my own, the things you've already done will be what keeps the ground steady under my feet. I've even thought about even asking my papa to come to Moscow for it, because of you. You've turned all that sand into bedrock, and I'm not scared anymore."

"I'm still not sure what to do about Mikhail though." Yuri admitted sullenly.

"It's not so straightforward with him." The Russian shrugged lightly, and reached his free hand across the table to bring the laminated single-sheet breakfast menu forward, "Forget about it for now though. The wounds are too fresh and I don't want to deal with it anyway. I'll feel better when we're on the plane. Maybe then I'll finally be able to relax a little."

It was impossible to want to drag the conversation back when it was so clear that Viktor was done with it, so Yuri nodded quietly to himself and lifted his head, looking over at the menu as well. His eyes saw the words but his brain wouldn't read them.

"You don't like it." Viktor said suddenly, drawing Yuri's attention back, "How I'm saying I want to deal with things."

"It's not my call." The younger man answered, "There's nothing of value for me to contribute right now, so the best I can do is support you. If letting it go and giving yourself some time and space away from Mikhail is what you want, I can't say you're wrong. Maybe we all need it."

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder." The Russian added, leaning against the table while he read, "...In some cases."

"Agreed."

A few seconds passed before Viktor turned his eyes again, only to lean to the side and bump his shoulder against his husband's, "...You're very good at all this, you know," He paused, waiting for the man to look back at him, and gave a wink, "Dr. Nikiforov."

Yuri could feel his face flushing, but before he could answer, his stomach made a terrible growling noise that he worried could be heard as far away as the next table. He lurched and wrapped his arms around himself to contain the beast within, trying not to look too conspicuous, but Viktor laughed anyway. He felt the Russian leaning in to nibble on his ear affectionately.

"You're adorable." Viktor mused, "And I think I just fell in love with you again."

.

The Press Conference for the end of the Grand Prix Final was as standard as it could get. Yuri sat in the middle, with Otabek on his right and Yurio on his left, a long table stretching across 30ft of stage, and a huge white billboard behind them with all the different sponsor logos spackled across its surface.

The questions were run-of-the-mill; How did you feel about your Free Skate? What do you think you can improve for next time? Do you have plans to go to the Olympics? Will you bring the same programming there or create something unique? The only question that stumped any of the skaters was the inevitable one about their reactions to Viktor's recusal from the podium.

"I thought he was pulling my chain when I found out why he'd done it." Yuri answered, leaning against the table on his elbows, "When I saw him step down from the podium, it felt like the whole world suddenly went to slow motion. It was hard to believe. For a split second, I thought maybe he was falling, not walking, so I think my heart skipped a beat before I got a good look at him. I even tried to convince him to step back up again, but he told me to shuush." The audience and media laughed, "Otabek seemed to understand what was going on before I did, since he hopped right over the level behind me to take his spot on Silver. I think Yuri nearly wet himself when Viktor yelled at him to get out there."

More laughter, but Yurio quirked a brow, "I was surprised, but not that surprised. Viktor's always doing stupid things."

"Remind us all who's still asking me to be his coach." Viktor hollered from the 3rd row.

The press corps turned to photograph the Russian as he smiled rather smugly, then turned their attention back to the skaters on the stage. Yuri smirked, but Yurio just half-rolled his eyes. Otabek was as stoic as ever, side-eyeing them but saying nothing.

"Speaking of Viktor being a coach though...since he's also competing, how are you going to handle him being in Moscow while you're at your own Nationals?" One of the sports reporters asked.

"It'll be hard without him," Yuri answered, looking down at the table for a moment before looking up again, "Other than for my Free Skate at Rostelecom last year, Viktor's been there for me at every event. Being on my own for a whole weekend though... At least in Russia, Viktor still has Yakov around to stand in as his coach while I'm away, but I'll be on my own entirely. Celestino won't be there either."

Viktor was practically blue in the face from the dread-embarrassment of Yuri's words. A dark cloud spiraled over him in the audience, but he stayed quiet.

"I think it'll be okay though. We'll just FaceTime before my turn or something." Yuri went on.

"Are you concerned about having another anxiety attack like you did at Skate Canada and Cup of China?" Someone else asked.

Viktor's shadow could've been vantablack with how dark it suddenly became under him. The cloud swirled more fiercely.

"Nationals isn't nearly as harrowing as the Grand Prix Series..." Yuri tried to explain, "All the chatter about Viktor and I competing against one another after our battle at Worlds...I was really scared this whole season that I'd let everyone down, or make Viktor look bad, if I didn't score Gold at both of my events. We aren't competing against each other for Nationals though so it's not really on my mind. It's a pretty laid-back event for me. I just wish Russia wasn't holding theirs at the same time, because other than Sochi, I've never actually been at an event in Russia when Viktor competed, so it would've been nice to go."

"Especially now, right?"

"Well..." Yuri gave a nervous smile, hiding the myriad events that had happened in Russia behind his eyes, "It would be interesting to go now."

"Be glad you get to take it easy at Nationals," Yurio suddenly commented, "When Viktor and I go head to head in Moscow, I'm going to beat him. I won't be giving up my Gold either."

Clamor in the audience grew, and many were cheering on the challenge. Viktor's dubious expression eased up a little as well, and the cloud above him seemed to finally dissipate.

With the last few group photos being taken of the winning trio, the conference came to an end, and the Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final in Detroit was officially over for the Men's Singles. Yuri bid his farewells to Otabek, and turned to walk with Yurio down to the audience where Viktor was coming out to meet them.

"So you guys aren't going straight to Moscow anymore?"

"Nah." Yurio shook his head, "The old man decided he wanted to go back to Edmonton for a few days first."

"And someone's still watching Potya for you until then?"

"Da."

"It's going to be fun to have her in Hastesu." Yuri commented, "I only got to see her that one time, when we went to your place and Mikhail was first setting up as your sponsor."

"When are you guys leaving?" The teen wondered, stopping in the middle aisle as his older counterpart got to them.

"We have to be at the airport in 2 hours. The flight is 27 hours and has 2 layovers..." Yuri answered with a nervous twitch, "We'll be in LA for part of tonight, then in Tokyo, then to Fukuoka...and then finally home."

"It'll be worth the wait." Viktor chimed in, snaking an arm behind his spouse's back, and feeling one of Yuri's come around him as well, "Plus, it'll be in first class, so we won't be cramped into tiny sardine-can seats."

"Why wouldn't it be in first class...?" Yurio dared to ask, "You refuse to fly any other way."

Yuri just raised his hand, "I'm in charge of booking flights after the ones Viktor's already picked run their course."

The teen just deadpanned him, "...Why?"

"Cuz I said so."

"Cuz he said so." Viktor nodded in agreement.

Green eyes moved slowly between the duo, but Yurio was still skeptical, "...You guys are weird."

"Only as much as we need to be." Yuri smiled in agreement, "We need to get going though. We have to take back Viktor's rental and get through the TSA." He reached his free arm forward towards the Russian Tiger, "I'll see you after Nationals. Ganbatte, ne?"

"Spasibo. Davai." Yurio slipped in under the arm and returned the hug with his own, then turned his eyes towards the room exit, spotting the entourage of silver-haired folk there waiting for him. He turned back to Viktor though, "It's weird, seeing you around, but that it's me being the one to leave with your family."

"Family is what you make, not what you're born into." The silver legend answered, pulling Yuri just a bit closer, "You're leaving with people I'm related to, that's all."

"So it's still like that." Yurio shook his head, "Oh well. See you in Moscow. Da svidanija."

"Ja ne." The two said together, waving lightly as the blonde turned away.