Chapter Text
Yuuri sprung from the car before Yakov even had the opportunity to fully park it. He cast a wild look over the street. The snow had slowed to a quiet drift now, the ideal kind that happened frequently in Holiday movies and rarely in reality. It rendered the world white and low contrast in the yellow glow of streetlights. The December sun in St. Petersburg wouldn't rise until ten. It was so quiet.
Any evidence an ambulance had been parked in front of the building three hours prior was well erased. Alongside any traces of an elderly poodle. There were still two police cars parked on the curb, one of which was running with snow melting sluggishly off its windshield. Yuuri began trudging towards it, snow soaking steadily into the toes of his boots.
“Yuuri!” It was Yakov, he and Yuri had gotten out of the car. Yakov was holding Yuuri’s coat up in one hand. Yuuri shook his head before the older man could go on,
“I can’t wear it. It’s got blood on it.” Yakov squinted dubiously at the article. Yuuri knew he wouldn’t be able to see it in the dim light. The man had just gotten reading glasses a month ago because his eyesight had deteriorated so badly. Yakov shook his head after a moment and begrudgingly handed the coat to Yuri who seemed to affirm Yuuri’s statement. The two shared a look.
Yuuri’s mind supplied him with an image of Viktor, sitting across from him at their kitchen table in sweatpants and a well-worn Hatetsu castle hoodie, complaining about how close Yakov and Yurio had become recently. Of Yuuri boldly joking that Viktor was just jealous that Yuri had stolen his dad. Of teasingly asking Viktor if he wasn’t satisfied with Yuuri. Yuuri resolved to return to the hospital tomorrow. Or today. In the afternoon. He needed to see Viktor. After he found Makkachin. He would find Makkachin because he couldn’t imagine telling Viktor that he had lost their dog while he was dying in the hospital.
“Alright, well, at least go look for her inside. Yuri and I will look around out here.” Yuuri hesitated for a moment and then nodded, heading for the building. He was already standing at the doors’ when he realized that he would be taking a premature trip to some very negative feelings. When Yuuri climbed to the top of the second floor landing, he could see that the hall around their apartment had been taped off. Two officers stood in front of the door, making incredibly unenthusiastic small talk. Yuuri would’ve hesitated to approach them, but they both noticed him and quieted as soon as he came to the top stair. Yuuri guessed he didn’t really need to hear what they thought of how it was meant to snow all day anyway.
“Um. I’m sorry, but I live here.” He gestured at the taped off door as he neared the officers, “I’ve already given a statement and everything. I was just wondering. Have you seen a dog? She’s a poodle. Brown. About this big,” he tried to approximate Makkachin’s height with a hand, “She would have a collar with her name and the address for this building. She’s very friendly.” The officers glanced at each other and one said,
“Sorry. We haven’t seen any dogs, but we haven’t been here for very long. Maybe you can ask your neighbors?” Yuuri’s heart sped up, he knew they probably wouldn’t know where she was. Makkachin wouldn’t have returned to the apartment if she had been outside with Yuuri. Makkachin was old and this was probably more shock than she could handle.
He nodded at the officers before turning to walk over to the door across the hall. When his neighbors answered their door, he apologized for waking them up and spoke with them briefly. They didn’t know where Makkachin had gone, but they had seen the ambulance hours earlier and hadn’t known that it was for Viktor and Yuuri’s apartment. They were sorry to hear that something had happened and looked very eager to hear more. Yuuri didn’t have any hard feelings towards these particular neighbors, but their flippant attitude towards his crisis was something he didn’t have the patience for. He left after disclosing as little information as possible.
Then he went to their next door neighbors. They were an older couple, most of the residents in the building were. That or well-off young couples. This couple had, had Viktor and Yuuri over for dinner twice. The wife would often wave to them when they left for runs in the morning and she was letting their dog, a tiny creature of ambiguous origins with a Napoleonic disposition, out to use the bathroom.
He was sure they would get along even better if he could understand her. As it stood Yuuri was from a foreign country overseas and the couple had lived most of their life in Southern Russia where the need for English was negligent and the pronunciation of many words just different enough to trip him up. Now that he thought about it, she probably understood him even less than he did her. He was surprised when the very woman answered after his second knock.
“Oh dear… don’t mind… dog…. Now…. See…” The woman seemed excited to see him, so Yuuri took that as a good sign. Before she could finish speaking Makkachin came skidding through the entryway to barrel into Yuuri for the second time that morning. Yuuri knelt to wrap his arms around Makkachin’s heaving body,
“I’m so sorry Makkachin.” He buried his face into her neck. “I’m sorry.” He pet her ears and let the familiar feel of her fur calm him down. He didn’t know how long he sat on the ground with Makkachin, but it was long enough that he felt a little embarrassed when he stood again. Yuuri was suddenly all too aware of the fact that his eyes were sore and most certainly swollen and red. Not to mention he was only wearing a light sweatshirt when it was below zero outside.
He realized the woman was saying something to him. He pressed his palm to the side of Makkachin’s neck as he tried to listen.
“Alexei heard the ambulance…. Seemed quite out of it…. We fed her… hope Viktor’s… sweet young man….” When she had finished, Yuuri thought he probably got the gist and tried to recall ever interacting with the woman while waiting for the paramedics to bring Viktor out of the apartment. It seemed that she had come up to him to offer to watch Makkachin. Although he was still ashamed of his own inattention, Yuuri felt a new sense of gratitude towards the woman,
“Thank you, really. I didn’t mean to trouble you.” Yuuri stood up now,
“Oh, that’s alright…. just… Viktor?”
“He’s alright. I haven’t seen him yet…” Yuuri swallowed dryly, “but the doctor said he should be okay, they got him there in time and he’s resting for now.” He knew he was sugar-coating it, but he didn’t want to worry anyone needlessly. The woman nodded and smiled warmly at him,
“Have to…. Send food…”
“You really don’t have to. This is already enough, I’m grateful that you looked after Makkachin.” It was bizarre. Talking so casually with his neighbor at this time. Especially since his exhaustion was finally starting to hit him. Hard. Yuuri thought he might finally come to understand what it’s like to fall asleep standing up. He was so tired that he entirely missed what the woman said,
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” Yuuri asked. She just shook her head and disappeared into the apartment. She left the door open so Yuuri assumed she would return. He looked at his feet awkwardly and pet Makkachin’s head, absent-minded, trying to stay awake. He wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
“Yuuri!” Yuuri’s eyes snapped open, he looked up to see Yakov and Yuri standing at the top of the stairs. Both of their eyes immediately went to Makkachin.
"You found her?” The two men walked to join Yuuri at his neighbor’s door. Yuri crouched to pet Makkachin. Yakov looked at the open door and then at Yuuri quizzically.
“I guess I let the neighbors take her before I left for the hospital.”
“You don’t remember?”
“No, I don’t really remember much after…” Yuuri trailed off awkwardly and Yakov didn’t pry. Instead he simply nodded and gripped Yuuri’s shoulder with one warm hand. In any other circumstance this probably would’ve felt odd, Yuuri wasn’t as close with Yakov as Yuri or Viktor, but right now it felt grounding. The woman returned laden with a big cloth bag. She looked at Yuri and Yakov,
“Some of our friends.” Yuuri explained as she handed him the bag. He accepted it, even though he wasn’t really sure what it was. Food, maybe?
“Food.” She explained simply and then before he could say anything else, “Take care of yourselves.”
“Thank you.” It came out shaky. He would have to treat her to lunch once this was all over. She nodded to Yakov and Yuri before closing the door.
What now? Yuuri couldn’t go back to his apartment, he didn’t have any of Makkachin’s stuff, he didn’t have any of his stuff. He looked to Yakov.
“You can stay at my place.” Yakov said simply. Yuuri already somewhat knew that, that was how all of this would turn out, but it felt good to hear it. He was so grateful not to be alone. He tried and failed not to think about how Viktor was in a worse state and had no one. He tried and failed not to think about how Viktor may be waking up right now; not knowing where he was, in pain, all alone and Yuuri should be there with him. He tried and failed not to think that if this was Japan then he would be by Viktor’s side right now.
“Pork cutlet? Hey dumbass, you asleep?” Yuuri felt a sharp pain in his ear. Yuri had pinched him. He looked at the younger man, “Let’s go, I’m fucking exhausted.” Yuuri nodded dumbly and followed them back to Yakov’s car.
The drive to Yakov and Yuri’s apartment was silent. Yuuri sat in the back seat now, Makkachin next to him and the food in his lap. With the gentle rocking of the car, the warm air blowing from the vent, and Makkachin’s heat pressed to his side Yuuri began to nod off.
“Yuuri, hey.” Yuri’s voice was unusually gentle, Yuuri’s opened his eyes groggily and looked up at the boy. “We’re here.” Yuuri looked out the window to confirm. Sure enough, he saw the familiar building. It was newer than Yuuri and Viktor’s with a orderly and minimalist exterior. Yakov killed the engine. Yuuri was blasted with a gust of freezing air as Yuri opened his door to get out. That woke him up more.
As they walked to the building, Yuuri felt a little guilty for making Yakov carry his suitcase in the snow. It wasn’t very heavy, but certainly inconvenient with all the snow. However, Yuuri was holding the bag in one hand and held onto Makkachin’s collar with the other. He knew she wouldn’t run, but it made him feel better. They entered the building in silence, rode the elevator in silence, went into the apartment in silence. Yakov set Yuuri’s luggage down next to the kitchen table and finally said,
“Well, all we can do is get some rest. Yuuri you can take the guest room; do you want to take a shower?” If Yakov had asked Yuuri that after he’d gotten off the plane, an eternity ago, Yuuri would’ve accepted in a heartbeat. He still felt gross, but he shook his head.
“I think I just need to sleep.”
“Alright, I’ll let you know if the hospital calls. They might call you first though.”
Yuuri shook his head again, “My phone is back home. I left it when we went to the hospital. The police said they’ll return it when they’ve finished collecting evidence,” Then Yuuri remember, “Ah, sorry Yuri, I gave the police your number when they took my statement. So they might call you-“
“That’s fine.” Yuri said resolutely.
“Evidence of what?” Yakov asked, he sounded genuinely surprised. Yuuri realized that Yakov and Yuri had no idea what had happened beyond that Viktor was in the hospital. Gratitude flooded Yuri’s chest as he looked at the two of them. They had taken this so well, had been such a comfort to him while anxious and uncertain themselves. They must feel so much more helpless than he did. He owed it to them to explain.
“They think it was a robbery.” He watched their expressions transform. Yakov’s brow furrowed, the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes deepened. Yuri’s brows moved down as well, but his eyes widened minutely and his jaw clenched. Yuuri could recognize his own feelings reflected in their faces: fear, concern, and above all confusion.
“How?” Yuri was the first to speak. Yuuri just shrugged. They were silent for a moment
“As I said, let’s sleep. We can’t do anything at the moment.” Yakov spoke calmly, but he still looked troubled.
“Okay.” Yuuri agreed. He didn't wait for someone else to speak before grabbing his carry-on and turning to make his way to the guest room. He already knew where it was. Yuuri and Viktor had crashed there many times before: after practice, when they came over to drink with Yakov, or on Yuri’s eighteenth birthday when they took him out to bar-hop. He'd gotten blackout drunk and vomited on Viktor’s favorite shoes. Viktor and Yuuri hadn’t let him live it down, in the most affectionate way possible, since.
Yuuri remembered being a little tipsy, lying with Viktor in the bed of the guest room, making him listen to a playlist of ABBA’s greatest hits because Yuuri’s mom loved them and getting drunk made him a little homesick sometimes. Also, he hadn’t been able to believe that Viktor had never been introduced to the pure, unadulterated joy of 'Super Trouper'. He remembered Viktor’s boyish laugh as Yuuri had leaped from the bed to perform a dramatic rendition of 'The Winner Takes It All' for him. It hurt. He flopped face forward into the bed. Rolling over ungracefully he found Makkachin watching him from the end of the bed.
“I’m sorry, Makkachin. You’ve had a tough time tonight, too.” He stood and lifted he onto the bed. She’d had hip surgery about a year ago and couldn’t get up on beds or couches on her own since. When he laid back down, she shifted to press to his side. He kissed her muzzle,
“I’m so sorry. You’ve been so good and you’re probably even more confused than I am.” He stroked a hand down her back, feeling the familiar curls. She was due for a haircut soon. “It’ll be okay though, I promise. I’ll take care of you, both of you, no matter what. No matter how old you are or if Viktor isn’t the same, I’ll take care of you.” He laid there with her for a while. The quiet was oppressive.
The Katsuki’s weren’t a particularly loud clan, but they were friendly. Neighbors rotated through their doors every night of the week to drink or watch sports games or share meals or sometimes all three. Growing up in an onsen, even a small one, meant someone was always around. Even when Yuuri had left Japan to come live with Viktor, things were never quiet.
Viktor could be gentle, could be quiet, could be calm, but he was a big person. Not physically. Rather, he was just one of those people that filled up whatever room he was in, not oppressively, not irritatingly. He made every room feel alive. He made people want to be their best. He made people feel wanted. Life was simply more with Viktor. Yuuri had been awe-struck by it at first, now he was comforted by it.
Yuuri hadn’t felt it in over a week, had been dangerously close to never feeling it again. God, he wanted to see Viktor. He would go back to the hospital tomorrow. Yuuri got up, startling Makkachin,
“Sorry, I’m just going to get changed. I’ll be back.” Yuuri crouched by his suitcase to unzip it. When he opened it, he was hit with the smell of incense and the laundry detergent his father had used since Yuuri was a child. He picked out a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. He pressed his face to the shirt for a moment, it was comforting. It made him want to cry a little. He was too tired to cry again though and his eyes were sore. Yuuri changed quickly and rejoined Makkachin on the bed. Even though she was laying down, she didn’t look like she going to sleep anytime soon.
There was a soft knock at the door.
“Can I come in?” Yuri’s voice was muffled through the door.
“Yeah.” Yuuri wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not. As independent and tough as he was, Yuri had always been most comforted by being with others when things were hard.
Yuuri remembered when Yuri was sixteen and he’d had a bad collision with another skater during warm-up immediately before an important competition. He recalled how tightly the boy had gripped Yuuri’s arm as they checked him for a concussion and as they disinfected the cut above his brow and flushed the blood from his eye.
Yuri entered almost timidly and hovered in the doorway awkwardly. Yuuri peered at him for a moment.
He’d gotten taller since they’d first met. He was taller than both Viktor and Yuuri now. He was still slender, but he’d definitely filled out and grown into his body. Yet, he looked so small right now with his eyes cast to the ground.
“Come here, Yurio.” Yuuri said. Yuri didn’t have to be asked twice, he came and sat down next to Yuuri.
“Viktor is going to be okay. We’ll be okay.” Yuri’s head snapped up. He was glaring at Yuuri.
“You – you don’t get to say that!”
“What?” Yuuri was honestly surprised.
“I came in here to comfort you! You don’t get to comfort me! Fuck!” Yuri lowered his head again and wiped at his eyes with his sleeve suspiciously. Yuuri would’ve laughed if any other part of this situation was humorous.
“Yuri…”
“You’re his fiancé! It’s okay to cry. You don’t have to hold back, or anything…” Now Yuuri actually did chuckle, mostly out of surprise. He gestured to his own face.
“Um, Yurio, if you couldn’t tell. I did cry. A lot. I’ll probably cry again. Right now, I’m just tired.” Yuri eyed him suspiciously, his eyes were shiny. Yuuri opened his arms. Yuri eyed him for a moment more, then folded into them. It felt good, to hug someone, even if it reminded him of how Viktor was alone.
They were silent for a while. Yuri held tightly onto the front of his shirt. Yuuri held tightly onto the younger man.
“Just because I’m his fiancé doesn’t mean I’m the only one who gets to be hurt. Viktor is important to you too. He loves you like a brother.” Yuuri chuckled again and then said, “I’m pretty sure he’ll be offended if you don’t cry for him at least a little anyway.”
A muffled whimper suddenly emerged from the boy. As if he couldn’t be silent anymore. Makkachin’s lifted her head to look and then got up to circle them. Yuuri rubbed a hand over his trembling back. He let the boy cry for as long as he needed.
By the time Yuri let go to scrub his face with his hands, Yuuri shoulder had been thoroughly wetted. He didn’t mind.
“Do you want to sleep here?” Yuuri asked because he wanted Yuri to stay and because he suspected that the boy wanted the same. Yuri just nodded, still covering his eyes with his hands. Yuuri got up to turn off the lights. By the time he returned to the bed Yuri had already curled up with one arm around Makkachin and Yuuri had to circle around the bed to avoid climbing over them. He didn’t mind.
Once Yuuri had joined them under the covers he waited a moment before saying quietly,
“I’m just glad I have you here, Yuri. I couldn’t handle this alone. Thank you.”