Yuuri ran.

Right into a pair of strong arms.

His feet stilled, his lungs thanked him for stopping, his chest heaved and ached from the exertion.

The warm body held him close and gave him a chance to catch his breath before breaking the silence.

"You're safe with me, Yuuri."

"No." Yuuri's eyes widened as the voice chuckled into his ear, pulling him impossibly closer, crushing what little breath he'd held out of his lungs. His feet seemed to grow roots that held him fast to the sidewalk, and his blood must have turned to lead, rending him motionless. His spine turned to ice and a cage match broke out in his stomach. "No, no, NO!"

"Wake up! Please wake up!" he begged his mind, but it wasn't a dream this time. This was real. He'd actually been stupid enough to run into the man again. "Viktor…" tears began to prick behind his eyes.

"Well, since you so rudely ran into me I think it's only fair that I get to have some fun, don't you?" the voice cooed, disgusting smile spreading further with every word, revealing a dripping tongue. The man was actually salivating at the thought of making Yuuri relive his hell. Revolting. "Besides, there's no way this is a chance encounter, is there? Four in the morning, wandering the streets… were you looking for me?"

"Viktor, help…" oh god. What would Viktor think? Once was one thing… but to have this happen twice. If Viktor hadn't given up on him yet, this would surely do it.

Yuuri found himself cooperating again, despite the voice in his head telling him to fight. There was only one this time, and there wasn't a knife to his throat, so why the hell wasn't he fighting?!

"Come on, you can do it." He shook as the man dragged him away from the sidewalk by his hair, wandering deep into the park that surrounded the rink. "Just punch him, or kick, or struggle! Do something goddammit! Squirm, scream, bite, I don't care! DO SOMETHING YOU PATHETIC PIECE OF SHIT! THEY WON'T PUT UP WITH YOU IF YOU TAKE IT AGAIN!"

"I think here's good." The man smirked, grabbing Yuuri by the front of the shirt before throwing him to the ground with a painful thud. He was about to try his best to help himself when suddenly a foot stomped down on his sternum, holding him in place and cutting off his air with the uncomfortable pressure. "I don't think I need to say this considering who I'm talking to, but cooperate or I'll slit your little boyfriend's throat."

"I can't… Viktor I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" Yuuri gave into the stinging behind his eyes, letting the tears flow down his cheeks. The hot wash of shame came hard and fast as the man straddled Yuuri's hips, grabbing his chin to force eye contact. He couldn't let Viktor get hurt because of him. He believed every word the man said, and would so much rather walk through hell and back for the second time than see Viktor die. But a tiny voice in the back of his head fought its way forward, screaming shrilly into Yuuri's ears, pushing him to do something he never would have imagined doing. "Do something, dammit! Don't let him do this to you again! He won't kill Viktor, it's all talk! Don't let him get away with it without doing something for yourself! You can't submit twice! Be less pathetic! VIKTOR!"

Both Yuuri and the man that now held their shirts in his thick, foul hands, flinched. Had that actually happened? Yes, yes it had. Yuuri had yelled. Yuuri had yelled! He'd called out for help, and he was going to do it again!

"VIKTOR! HELP! VI-" Once the man on top of him snapped out of his disbelief a section of Yuuri's shirt was suddenly shoved into his mouth, making him gag.

"What the fuck?!" the man landed a solid punch, snapping Yuuri's head to the side, making him taste blood. "You little shit, you'll be sorry!" The man began wrestling with the waistband of Yuuri's sweatpants with one hand, clearly flustered, while he held Yuuri's wrists together above his head with the other, and tried to keep himself positioned so Yuuri couldn't move. That was when the gravity of the situation hit him. It was happening again. And he couldn't struggle. He felt as immobile as he'd been when he was actually tied down with four sets of hands on him at all times. He froze, numb, slamming his walls up even harder than before. He slammed his eyes closed to, refusing to look the bastard in the eye. He tried to concentrate on breathing as he felt his heartrate double, nearing panic. He could deal with this. He could. He'd done it once before, and this time he'd tried. He'd tried to call attention to himself. He'd rebelled against his attacker. He at least had that tiny sliver of comfort at the forefront of his mind as he felt his boxers being yanked roughly down to his knees.

Suddenly, Yuuri felt the weight around his hips leave, and the grip around his wrists release. He immediately pulled the shirt out of his mouth and scrambled to get his pants to sit on his hips. Whatever had just happened, he didn't care. The man was off of him, that was all that mattered. He was getting his modesty back.

He opened his eyes wearily, searching for his attacker. He found him, a pile of shadow that seemed to be wrestling with something. Another shadow came into view, sprinting past Yuuri, pulling the other shadows apart and tacking one deep into the dirt.

Yuuri scuttled away, as fast as he could, until he felt the skin of his bare back connect with rough tree bark. He then instinctively pulled up his knees, giving into his panic, rocking back and forth, shaking, hyperventilating.