#(current phone+case immediately withers away to dust)

[cerealandchoccymilk]

GETTING A NEW PHONE.....FINALLY.......

[life-love-and-alcohol]

Ok ok... Here we go. Viktor retires and starts coaching Yurio and Yuuri. But he's feeling it again that depression that he felt before Yuuri. It confused him. He starts getting snappy, stares off into the distance.... Starts feeling like his skin is crawling. He never knew he could feel like this.. who can bring him out of this. This panicky depression that is scaring him.

owwww this is sad, it hurt to write :( But I gave it a happy ending because I can’t stand angst :):):) 

WARNING!!!! This includes depression and quite a detailed description of a panic attack…so, if that may affect you in any way, I recommend you to skip this! 

Viktor hadalmost forgotten how it felt.

They say onedoesn’t know what they have until they lose it. However, for Viktor, it hadbeen the other way around.

Twenty sevenyear old Viktor Nikiforov, five times figure skating champion, didn’t know whathe lacked until he got it.

He hadassumed he was an apathetic person, heartless even. What other reason could hegive to the fact he actually had to forcehis smiles in pictures? Even as he stood on the podium, even with gold in hishands. He had assumed nothing lasted forever, that dreams eventually wore out.Just like any weed, the ones that grew within passionate hearts had to witherat some point, too. He had assumed that was it, that was life. That feeling ofinsatiateness, of emptiness, of his heart trying to catch its own tail. He hadalways thought it normal.

But one day,as he found himself lying on the couch, scrolling through his phone as always, thingswere seen in another light. In that precise moment, with Yuuri curled onto theside of his body and breathing evenly on his neck, when the only existing discomfortwas the itching wool of the blanket around them… he realized he had been wrongall along.

He hadn’tbeen apathetic, he hadn’t been discouraged, and he hadn’t been just following anormal someone’s routine of numbness.

He had beenseriously depressed.

Viktor hadalmost forgotten how it felt.

He woke upevery day to the heat of another body on the bed. The first thing he heardevery morning wasn’t the weather broadcaster announcing a sunny day, but a verymuch warming “hello, Vitya”, and he didn’t even care about the morning breath.When he made coffee, he made two cups. One of them sugarless, with steviasweetener and a lot of milk. Breakfast wasn’t just about eating the sufficientnutrients for practice, but about listening to Yuuri telling him about someweird dream he had about Makkachin, or discussing their new routines and musicchoices.

Skating hadnothing to do with how many quads he landed a day, but how many times he couldmake his husband clap and wheeze in excitement, still not over his phase as afan. His passion, his art, had found a real meaning again. An ambition. For thefirst time in years, he wanted to win because of competitiveness, motivation,and not just the inertia of being champion Viktor Nikiforov. He remembereddevotion. Every now and then, his head would be free from any voice or soundbut the beat of the music and the sliding of his blades through the ice. And hewould feel the happiest man on earth.

Viktor hadalmost forgotten how it felt.

He had beentold time healed all wounds, and Viktor had lived on that promise. When he hadbeen young, barely beginning to realize the vertigo of the tallest podium andthe not so shiny side of gold, he had trusted those wise words. And he hadwaited for time to blow its winds and currents on him again, carrying somesense of relief, freedom, and raising old emotions like clouds of dust. Itdidn’t happen. Time had stood still, calm. Time brought no storms or scarytyphoons for winners like him, but in the end, it didn’t bring anything at all.Time had stopped his curse, and Viktor had stopped feeling alive.

Time hadn’thealed his wounds in the past and it wouldn’t do it right then. At least, notcompletely. Doctors had told him after they removed the cast he would be ableto walk properly, but that it was for the better if he didn’t force it. Theydidn’t seem to want to say the words out loud, the truth, what that ambiguousdiagnosis meant. And he hadn’t been able to admit it himself until he got homethat evening, and didn’t even eat the dinner Yuuri had prepared. He didn’t wantto talk to Yuuri right then. Yuuri had lied to him.

“It’s was just a silly fall, love, I’m sureit’s nothing”

 “You just need to wait, Vitenka! It will allbe back to normal within a few days…”

 “…within a few weeks….”

 “….within a few months…”

 “Worry not! The next x-ray will be better!”

 “You’ll be back to skating in the blink ofan eye…”

Viktor hadalmost forgotten how it felt.

He didn’tknow if it was the lack of rest, but vigil would feel more unreal than anysprout of a dream he could have before he forced himself to wake up. From themoment his feet touched the ground as he stood up from the bed, reality wouldlower its volume, its intensity, as if had been diluted in water.

If he wastalked to, he would answer. If there was food in front of him, he would eat. Ifhe got inside the car, he assumed he was supposed to drive somewhere. If Yuurishowed up naked after a shower, and began trailing kisses down his shoulder, hewould have sex. Sometimes he didn’t feel those kisses, as if his skin wereanesthetized. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even realize when he came. Sometimes, hewouldn’t come at all. There were days in which no matter how much Yuuriinsisted, no matter how many massages and caresses he gave or sweet nothings hewhispered into his ear, he wouldn’t convince him. Once Viktor had thrownhimself onto bed again, his shelter from that numbed reality, he didn’t wantany other connection with the daunting outsides. And he didn’t want Yuuri.

Life hadturned into an unfocused picture of the world around him.

Yuuri wouldsometimes worry as he heard him shift during restless nights. He would alwayscomment about the dark bags under his eyes, or about his lack of appetite, butViktor’s reassuring answers seemed to ease his qualms. He never inquired orpressed further, and within some seconds he returned to his inert role at thebackdrop’s blur in Viktor’s life.

Insomniahelped him avoid dreaming about skating, but he couldn’t avoid it while awake.He was still Yuuri’s and Yurio’s coach, he had a responsibility, and hecouldn’t tell the world just how hideous it felt to stand right there, in frontof the rink, with nothing but the sound of blades cutting through the ice andhis insensate thoughts. How maddening, how distressing. No one would ever understandthe way he felt. Because within those moments, as he looked straight into theice from the aloofness of the solid ground, there were the only times heactually felt something.

“Hey, oldrag, are you paying attention??” Yurio bickered, but Viktor barely acknowledgedhim “Did you see what I just did??”

He hadn’t,and he really didn’t care.

“He’s beenkind of distracted lately” He heard Yuuri say, not exactly worried anymore butirritated.

But Viktorwasn’t looking at the frown on his lips as he talked; he was looking at the wayhis feet twirled and moved on the ice, swiftly, effortlessly, hypnotizing.

“He’sprobably dealing with a midlife crisis” Yurio rolled his eyes, skatingbackwards, trying to find the perfect angle for a jump “He just doesn’t knowwhat to do with his life now that he retired and he’s losing his hair”

As hefinished talking, Yurio leaned outwards and took off with his right foot.Viktor’s jaw clenched as he saw the ponytail of long, fair hair flaming withthe grace of movement, posture lax and graceful, lifting himself into the air.He recognized the movement immediately. The perfect body flew with ease, givingfour perfect rotations and landing flawlessly, sliding a few more meters fromthe mere impulse. A quadruple flip.

The onemovement that had taken him to shatter his knee.

He suddenlyfelt an acid feeling suppurating in his chest, making him twitch, as if he hadjust bit a lemon with his heart. There was nausea, sickness lingering at theback of his eyes and nose, making the floor tremble at his feet and the wallslook malleable. For a moment he thought he might throw up, or faint, or maybeboth. The only thing keeping him conscious was his jumping pulse, threateningto accelerate like a car’s engine.

“Excuse me”He covered his mouth, walking away of the rink and towards the changing rooms“I need to go to the toilet”

“Uh, what’sup with you now?” He hear Yurio pant, tired from the effort of the jump, as hegot himself back to the railing.

But Viktordidn’t turn to look at him. The last thing he saw, as he disappeared behind thedoor, were the attentive eyes of his husband, escorting all the way out of theroom.

He hurriedhis pace, walking with long, quivery steps all the way to the toilets. The rinkthey practiced at was part of a sports center, but there was a separatewashroom next to the changing rooms that were just for skaters, and there’swhere he headed. He could see his own hands trembling as he opened the door,and he realized just how cold he was when he grabbed the metallic handle andfelt it warm compared to his own skin. He clenched it strongly, resting hiswhole weight onto it as he felt he might fall, his head and his chest suddenlya ton and unbalancing his body, as he placed his palms on top of the counterand let the heaviness of his head drop forwards.

What washappening? Was he sick? He leaned next to the sink in case he was about tothrow up, but he knew he wouldn’t. He knew that was not it. His muscles wereall torn between pain and numbness, no blood seemed to reach his limbs and theywere tingling, slowly losing feeling, as he closed his eyes and tried not tolisten to the sound of the blades through the ice he swore he could still hear.

He seriouslyconsidered he might be about to suffer from heart failure, but he couldn’tquite understand if it was speeding up or not beating at all. He thought ofYuuri, finding him there, lifeless. The image was another kick of distress inthe gut. His fingers clenched the border of the counter as he tried to even hisbreath, imagining his husband going through that experience, coming throughthat door and seeing him dead.

He waswashed over by a feeling of dread, of terror, all the fear and nightmares hehad blocked out for months suddenly battling all the way into his organism witha daunting march, heavy feet and loud voices, screaming, screaming loud, butnot as loud as the sound of skates cutting through the ice.

“He’s been kind of distracted lately”

Within thevoices and the noise of the blades and the cheers of an inexistent crowd, Viktorcould hear him, his husband. He could see his frown, the disappointment onthose brown eyes, the same eyes that looked at him from above every now andthen, as he sat on his lap and rocked his hips, asking for it, begging for somepassion Viktor just couldn’t bring himself to feel anymore. Passion that hadsuddenly rose from the pits of his unconsciousness, whirling inside his chestlike a hurricane and blowing down his entrails, leaving nothing but debris. Hewas ruins, ruins of a person. A person who used to feel, who used to smile, whoused to pour his every emotion into music, and who used to love. He loved, heloved so much. He loved so much he was afraid. Terrified. He was terrified oflosing the only he had left, the only memory he had about being a feelinghuman, happy, and who had it all. If he lost Love…then Life wouldn’t make senseat all.

That fuckinginjury had taken way too much away from him already. And it was about to takeeven more.

He walkedbackwards and opened a stall, sitting on top of the toilet and trying to catchhis breath, feeling no air passing through his swollen lungs. Why was thishappening to him? He was a grown man, he was supposed to take the wheel of hisown life. But there he was, sinking his head between his knees, trembling, hisinsides feeling dry and peeling as the whirl of anguish continued to suck everythingout of him, draining him, leaving him defenseless.

He thoughthe heard a noise, but it was hard to tell with the deafening sound of theskates and the ice still sliding through his brain, and the hammering knockingat his ribcage still drumming his hearing. He couldn’t block it. No matter howhard he pressed his hands onto his ears or rocked back and forth, the screamsand the damn noise just wouldn’t go away.

“Viktor!”

He wouldhave thought that voice was just another trick of his own mind, but he felt thelight press of a hand on top of his shoulder.

“Viktor, it’sme! Are you ok??”

“Yuuri” He wanted to say, he wanted toscream, he wanted to shout out for him but he couldn’t even speak.

“Viktor,everything’s going to be ok. Do you hear me??Look at me, love. Please” Thevoice sounded calmer, gentler, but he couldn’t obey . Not when his body didn’tresponded, and all he felt was the clutch of his own arms around him and theweight of the atmosphere falling heavily on his bones. He shook his head,showing he couldn’t do it, tightening his eyes shut as the world around himseemed to shake. It was only then, when his shoulder started to burn, that derealized that it was Yuuri shaking him “I’m here to help you, Viktor. Look atme”

He openedhis eyes, meeting the cold sight of the floor tiles, shapes blurry and unclearas the pattern wobbled around his vision. He felt a grip on his upper arm andhe was forced to look forwards, meeting the fuzzy colors of his husband’s face.He tried to center his sight on the same spot, the bridge of the blue glasses,until the picture began to enter in and out of focus.

When he sawthe concern plastered on it, the worry his voice had tried to mask…he couldn’thelp but feel a bit relieved.

“That’s good”There was a warm, callous thumb pressing on his cheek, drying a falling tear. Hadhe been crying? “Now you have to breathe with me, ok? Come on”

Yuuri beganto take deep breaths and he tried to comply, but as he saw his winded lungscouldn’t match him, he began to cry even more.

“No, love!You are doing good, you are doing good! Relax!”  He followed, feeling the soothing caress of ahand running up and down his spine, relieved he could feel them pressingagainst his inert back “Good! That’s it. Inhale…exhale….”

The buzz ofnoises began to gradually lower its volume, and he could see his husband’s facecompletely, only surrounded by a blurry halo of fuzzing white lights. He triedto move his hand, and he was glad to see it responded. Yet, Yuuri grabbed it inhis and stroked it, keeping it in place, as he shushed and whispered into hisear.

“Shhhh, it’sok. Just keep breathing for me, ok? I’m going to look for some help” However,as he saw him trying to stand up, Viktor couldn’t help the way he clenched hishand to keep him in place “I’ll be right back, love. I’m just going to get yousome assistance”

Yuuriunhooked one by one the frozen fingers around his wrist, and planted a quickkiss on the top of his silver head before he turned towards the washroom’sdoor. But as soon as he opened it, he gave a little jump of surprise, stayingstill, and that’s when Viktor heard the other voice…

“Why did hetake so long??”

“Yurio, Ineed you to call the center’s nurse and bring some water, please”

“What?? Whathappened to him??”

“I can’ttell you right now, please go…”

“But what doI tell them??”

“Tell them…”Yuuri seemed to hesitate for a second, and Viktor allowed himself to fakesurprise as he heard what he already knew “…tell them he had a panic attack”

Viktor hadalmost forgotten how it felt.

That night,after what seemed like an eternity of sitting in at that cramped infirmary, hefound himself in the comfort of his bed, lightheaded by slumber and the effectsof clonazepam, finally at ease. A warm bath had made miracles, as well as somenice homemade food and some breathing exercises he had been instructed. Now hewas just lying there, numbed, but not on the bad way, listening to the beat ofYuuri’s tranquil heartbeat he now found so easy to mimic. He was exhausted, justlike after a long day of skating and, ironically, that brought some kind of sickcomfort.

He was ok.

“I’m sorry”he felt the echo of his husband’s voice resound through his chest as he spoke “I’mreally sorry, Viktor”

“For what?”He didn’t even look at him, way too tired to even try moving, medication slowlypushing him into the drowse he knew he couldn’t reach on his own.

“For doing nothing,you were suffering alone and I was way too submerged into my own worries tonotice. I…I kind of thought your change of attitude had something to do with me.I thought you were angry…or that you were getting bored of me…”

Now, Viktor didfight against his slumber to face him, eyes bugged out with surprise and unmistakableconcern.

“Of coursenot, love! I could never…!”

“No, don’tcomfort me” Yuuri gently removed the hand reaching to stroke his cheek, and letit fall on top of the mattress as he looked at him in the eyes and spoke “Youare the one who’s going through a hard time, and I’m the one supposed to takecare of you now. I’ve been too self-centered to notice sooner, but now Ipromise you and myself that I’ll be here for you, no matter what. You just needto talk to me, ok? I might not be able to cure you, not your leg and not yourthoughts. But I will stay by your side, and I’ll do anything within my reach tosee you happy”

Viktor felthis eyes beginning to burn again. He didn’t know if he was crying because hehad been forced to acknowledge his own sadness, or if it was because of thesmothering love boiling at the pit of his stomach and steaming until his eyesgot cloudy. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was the overload of emotions he hadforced himself to repress for so many months already. And maybe he hadn’trealized how much he needed them until that moment. How much he needed to feelso loved. And how much he needed Yuuri.

“I’m sorrytoo” He mumbled onto the skin of his shoulder, as he wrapped his arms aroundhis neck and pulled him close.

“Don’t be,you did nothing wrong” Yuuri kissed his temple, his cheek, his hairline, anypatch of skin he could get his lips onto “I love you, Vitya. Through thick andthin, I’ll always love you”

That night,they fell asleep together, cuddling and hugging each other close, in a way theyhadn’t done in quite a long while. They knew it wasn’t over yet, they knew itwould take him way more to get over the accident and get used to his new lifestyle,saying goodbye to his sport for good. But they also knew they were together,that they weren’t fighting alone. And that, no matter how cold the outsidescould get, that bed would always be warm.

Viktor hadalmost forgotten how that felt, too.