The next evening, Viktor filled out Yuuri's discharge papers and they were able to leave the hospital. He had sent Yurio to their home ahead of them, requesting that he change the sheets on their bed before Yuuri would have to see them. Surprisingly, he did exactly what was asked of him.

Phichit had landed in the middle of the night, and was sticking around at the airport, waiting for Otabek to arrive. He had called Viktor to ask him for a hotel recommendation, but Viktor insisted that everyone stay in the same house. That way, Yuuri would never have to be alone, even for a short time.

Viktor arranged for a car to pick them up, and let Yuuri hold onto his elbow as they slowly walked out of the hospital. He was surprised Yuuri was allowing physical contact at all; when Viktor had tried to hold his hand earlier, Yuuri had pulled it away, looking frightened at the gesture that used to bring him joy.

Viktor opened the car door for Yuuri, letting him crawl in the back seat before shutting it and walking around to the other side. He climbed in, gave the driver the address, and let the ride pass in silence. Yuuri hadn't said a word since he'd woken up.

When they arrived home, Viktor got out of the car first and helped Yuuri to get to his feet. They stood in the driveway for a moment; neither was quite ready to go back inside yet.

"We have to do it sometime." Viktor smiled and offered his hand to Yuuri, who took it one step further and linked elbows with his silver-haired angel.

The progress up the front walk was slow, it took nearly five minutes to travel up the twenty-foot path. When they came to the front door, Yuuri stopped dead and pulled his arm away from Viktor.

"It's okay, I promise it's safe." He kept his voice low and smooth. "I sent Yurio in first to check it out."

Yuuri took a few deep breaths in an attempt to settle his nerves, but to no avail. He felt tears pricking behind his eyes and sunk down to his knees, letting one drop of salt water slip.

"I understand." Viktor took a knee along with his beautiful Katsudon. "It's hard for me too." Yuuri felt a stab of guilt at Viktor's comment. He couldn't imagine how he would have reacted had he had found Viktor in that state. He had a nasty habit of making people worry about him. "I think we can do it, together."

Yuuri composed himself, forcing the tears back and counting his breaths to calm his jitters. He nodded.

"Good." Viktor smiled, liking the progress they'd already made. Yuuri was at least communicating with gestures. At first, he hadn't even been able to respond to Viktor's questions. He got to his feet and watched as Yuuri rose, not wanting to overwhelm him with touch yet. However, when Yuuri began to lose his balance, Viktor's hand immediately shot out and grabbed Yuuri's arm, which made him tense. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Viktor stammered, trying to figure out whether he should let go or keep Yuuri upright. "I didn't want you to fall and make it worse."

Yuuri counted his breaths; in two three, hold two three, out two three, repeat. He reminded himself over and over again that it was only Viktor who was touching him. Viktor would never do anything to hurt Yuuri. Never. He shook off the gentle fingers and grabbed Viktor's hand.

Viktor sighed in relief and reached for the doorknob. "On three?" He looked to Yuuri and found the nod of confirmation he was searching for. "One… two… three." Viktor opened the door and Yuuri shut his eyes, letting his fiancé lead him over the threshold.

"The doctor said you need to rest, let's get you to bed." Viktor urged, continuing to lead Yuuri through the house before he could attempt an escape.

Yuuri allowed himself to be led upstairs, unable to open his eyes. His breaths came in short, sporadic bursts, which he failed to control.

"Yuuri!" he opened his eyes to see Yurio coming toward them. They were standing in the doorway of the master bedroom. Their bedroom. The room where it had happened.

Yuuri tore his hand away from Viktor. He felt the hands, the rope, the hot breath against his neck. He heard the voices, the laughter, the threats. The shame came rushing back, full force.

"Yuuri!" a voice called to him from miles away, somehow forcing its way through the others. He felt as though he was drowning in his fear, suffocating in his feelings. The voice seemed to be calling for him through an Olympic sized pool of Jell-O. "Yuuri!" clearer that time. He knew that voice. Who was it? It was someone he loved, but who?

"Yuuri!" Viktor. It was Viktor. His fiancé, the man he loved more than skating. More than his family. More than pork cutlet bowls. "Yuuri, listen to my voice." All Yuuri could see when he opened his eyes were the faces of his attackers, crowding around him, pushing closer as he sobbed. "Breathe, Yuuri. In, two three…" he did his best to follow Viktor's instructions, and found that the faces before him began to dissolve. Viktor's blue eyes came into view, and Yuuri calmed down even more. A face formed around the eyes. Why was he crying? Suddenly, Yuuri found himself uncurling from the ball he'd been crunched in and launching into Viktor's arms, knocking him on his ass. He curled up in Viktor's lap, sobbing. He wanted to apologize for making Viktor cry, for making him worry, for scaring him. But Yuuri simply could not find his words. Sentences came together in his head, but his tongue refused to articulate the syllables.

"Hey, it's okay." Viktor let tears of his own slip down his cheeks as Yuuri shook in his arms. "You're safe now."

Yurio stood by a few feet away, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He wasn't sure what to do, if anything, while Viktor rocked Yuuri gently, mumbling soothing words in his ear.

"Perhaps we should stay in one of the guest rooms." Viktor whispered after Yuuri had fallen asleep about twenty minutes later.

"That might be best." Yurio agreed, leading the way as Viktor carried Yuuri bridal style down the hall. Viktor followed Yurio into the guest room furthest from the master bedroom, knowing Yuuri wanted to be as far from that place as possible. Viktor had also found himself having flashbacks when he's laid eyes on the room, so he was glad for the change of scenery.

"Where's Makkachin?" Viktor asked after tucking Yuuri securely into bed. He hadn't previously noticed, but there was a distinct lack of poodle in the room.

"Backyard. Damn dog wouldn't leave me alone while I was trying to change your bedding." Yurio grumbled. He had never been overly fond of dogs, and Makka was the in-your-face type.

Viktor sighed and headed downstairs, Yurio on his heels. He went to the back door and let the nervous Makkachin into the house. Makka immediately ran to the front door, pawing at a translucent splotch on the wall.

"What is it?" Viktor asked his poodle, running a hand through his curly fur.

"I tried to get it off, but it was dry…" Yurio muttered, anger returning to his voice.

"Is it…?" Viktor couldn't finish the sentence.

"I think so. It's probably how he got the concussion."

Viktor closed his eyes, bracing himself against the wall as he forced his tears not to fall. He needed to be strong for Yuuri. If Viktor was a sobbing wreck, how could he expect Yuuri to get through anything?

"Vitya…" Yurio placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You should be with him. I'm going to go meet Beka and Phichit at the airport."

Viktor nodded and opened his eyes, turning to face the younger boy who somehow held the level-headed wisdom of a man twice his age. Without thinking, Viktor embraced Yurio. At first, he tensed, but the teen quickly relaxed and returned the man's hug. They both needed it, no matter how much one of them would deny it.

"There is a spare key in the drawer there." Viktor gestured as he finally unwrapped his arms from Yurio's shoulders. "Take it."

"We'll be back in a few hours." Yurio assured. "Be strong for him."

"I'll try." Viktor nodded. "I'll try."