Crashing Down
This is my second attempt at a start for a Yuri / Victor story.
rough draft
Yelling. Oh how Viktor hated yelling. He hated it more than all other things. It reminded him too much of his time before becoming a skater. Honestly, becoming Yakov's student had been the best thing for him. He had lived through the fall of the Soviet Union. He had made it through the shortages of the 90s. He had found a sanctuary in St. Petersburg -- and honestly, that his parents had left him there hadn't been much of a surprise.
For everyone that saw Yakov coach, they knew the man yelled, but it was different. He only yelled when he had a reason. If you were honestly doing your best and doing everything he asked -- he didn't yell. Viktor had learned how to get through skating with minimal yelling, and Yakov was a smart man, he knew how Viktor hated yelling, so it was used with great restraint.
Yuuri -- Yuuri was passionate. That is what he often told people. Viktor did not yell though. He could be a cold sadistic bastard on occasion, but he didn't yell. Yuri could yell. Victor prefererf to be a cold bitch when he had to be.
"Victor! We are going to be late!" The words were yelled from the other room of their apartment. "Victor!"
He could hear the panic starting to tinge those words so Viktor stood up, the livestream from Europeans on his phone as he walked to the main room.
"Viktor! Why aren't you dressed?"
"I had forgotten …" He looked back at his phone, eye narrowing as he saw a skater land a beautiful quad loop. France and Sweden both had incredible skaters this year in mens.
"How could you forget! You know this is important, Viktor!" Yuri sighed as he looked at the man, "At least look at me, Viktor!" The man was trying to hide the panic that was starting to cloud those words.
"Yuuri, I'm right here, I just forgot the time zone difference between here and Barcelona."
"Europeans? You are watching Europeans?" Yuuri was starting to panic as he looked at the man. "Can't you just record them and watch them later?
"They're almost done. Would it be that bad to ---" No, Viktor stopped right there. "I'll get changed. It should only be a few moments." He sighed as he turned to the bedroom, not wanting to argue, and not wanting to be in the room when Yuuri called Minami as Yuri explained that 'Viktor forgot' and they were 'just running a little late'. Yes, Viktor knew this was important. This was a sponsorship meeting for Minami, Viktor and Yuuri's senior skater under their training. Hasetsu was turning into a training center, and it was good. Life was good to all appearances. His coaching career was going well. Minami had made it to the GP finals. He would be competing in the 4Cs and then he'd be competing for Japan in worlds. That wasn't to mention the many juniors and younger that they had as well.
Victor quickly got dressed into a suit, not paying attention to which one, just knowing all of his suits looked good on him. A grey tie and he was done, his eyes never truly having left the phone so he could watch Europeans. He walked back out, sliding his shoes on as he didn't look up from his phone.
"Viktor! How can I relax when you are watching your phone?" The words were too loud.
"I am keeping an eye on the competition."
"But now I am going to worry that --"
"Yuuri. It's fine. I just like to watch what is happening before I see what other people had to say about it. THey'll be over before we get there. I will just sit in the back and Minami can sit in the front and he will be able to distract you, my love. It will be fine?"
Yuuri sighed, his lips moving to a frown. "Fine. Just, let's get going, I don't want to be too late to this event.
Thirty minutes later, Minami was excited and near bouncing in the front seat, yelling as he talked to Yuuri about training and sponsors and Viktor was doing his best to not be distracted. As they drove to the hotel, the final skater in men's singles took to the ice. This year, Yuri Plisetsky was performing to a piece from the ballet version of Romeo and Juliet. It was the theme this year for the young man. His short program was from the masquerade and his free skate was from the Juliet's tomb. The exhibition program was from the much more modern remake that was still older than the skater performing the more modern music. This was the free skate, and Victor had seen this program now three times before. Skate America, Rostelecom, and the GP final. For the Russian Nationals, he had used his programs for worlds the year before, downgrading the jumps. It made Victor suspicious, but there had been no mention of injury -- and Viktor was not going to use his friendships to find out information he shouldn't know.
Europeans was back to the programs Yuri had used in the GP series. His free skate had been enough to put him in first place, and he was going into the free skate with a five point lead. It was a good lead, but it was not enough that he could relax or downgrade too much.
Vikor watched carefully, his lips in a soft scowl as he closely watched every move the young man did. He had to stop thinking of Yuri as a boy, he was twenty-two now. His birthday had been just after the olympics, and Viktor was very aware that the newest Olympic medal for Russia said Yuri Plisetsky. The one eight years earlier from Viktor Nikiforov no longer as relevant.
The first half went well, Yuri was seven years into training with Lilia Baranovskaya and it showed. The competition was too tough this year to not backload your program with jumps, even with Yuri having five different quads in his impressive arsenal, he had to backload as well.
Viktor gasped, grabbing the back of the seat in front of him as he watched the screen. He'd never remember how much of the events he remembered from watching it live and how much from seeing the replays. He saw the wobble on the takeoff of a quad flip. The hangtime was not enough, and Victor knew that the only way to save it was to downgrade to a triple, but he saw Yuri rotate past that -- it was never clear on the replay if Yuri was still trying to get the quad or if he just had too much going into it for it to be a triple. What Victor knew was that Yuri's toe pick hit the ice, gripped and his foot jerked under him, all the force of the jump hitting his right ankle and there was no way the skate was helping take that force. He saw the unnatural movement as a little over fifty kilos landed with much too much force -- and then he saw the look on Yuri's face. The pain there in the seconds before the man passed out, crumpling to the ice, head bouncing off the hard surface, leaving a red streak of blood behind on the formerly pristine surface.
When Viktor yelled, and Viktor never yelled, Yuuri pulled the car over.
Victor turned on the volume, needing to hear what was being said as medical personnel rushed onto the ice. It was clear that Yuri wasn't getting up on his own -- the man wasn't even moving at all.
In hushed tones the announcer spoke about the medical staff as emergency personnel rushed onto the ice with Yakov and Lilia rushing over as well. Viktor saw the neck brace put on before the medics moved Yuri to have him flat on the ice, moving his neck as little as possible. A flashlight appeared as Yuri's eyelids were opened one after the other. There was no movement.
Even as Yuri was moved onto a stretcher and carried off the ice to the waiting ambulance -- normally an abundance of caution, but tonight it was clearly needed. There was no applause. At no point did Yuri move even a finger to indicate he was conscious.
There were no more updates. The men's competition ended on the somber note. The medal ceremony for Europeans somber and hushed as there were still no updates on Yuri's condition. Viktor tried to fake it as well as he could for the meeting with the Japanese skating association and the sponsors -- but he was not the only one who had a hard time concentrating on anything except the accident at Europeans.