One Last Thing: A Victuuri Fic!

Two Weeks is too much for me

Yuuri's P.O.V [warning, strong content ahead! This chapter has to do with a serious topics, including thoughts and actions of suicide! Please be warned! By the way, feel free to comment on my story! Just preferably not negative stuff]

It has been almost twelve hours since my husband has presumably left me. I wake up at 5:30 this morning, mostly because I had a nightmare from the night before, and all the stress isn't a great feeling on top of my nausea. I guess I just have to get used to living alone like this. . .But then I think to myself a little and realize some things: 
1. He wouldn't just disappear before a season,
2. He wouldn't leave his skates, dog, and clothing here,
3. He wouldn't leave me alone and pregnant, would he?
Unless of course, because of that he wants to leave it all behind and disappear. I haven't checked my phone in the time period it took for him to leave and me to wake up. I assume my phone is dead again, but I don't even want to bother with the thing. Then the landline rings and I get a little hope in my chest, thinking it's Viktor, but it's actually Pichit.
"Pichit? What are you doing up so early? It's almost six in the morning. . ."
"I heard about Viktor. Apparently the press heard you guys have a fight over something huge, and then they saw Viktor leaving with a bag. It's all online and in magazines and stuff, Yuuri!"
I feel even more sick now that he mentions it. I don't want to replay those thoughts in my mind again. 

The worst part is, I don't hate Viktor for what he did to me, I still love him dearly. I look down at my wedding ring and- Wait! The rings! Viktor still had his when he left! Maybe he wasn't planning on leaving for this long, maybe something happened and he's in some hospital somewhere, looking for me even. 
No. . .No, that isn't what's happening. He's left. Gone.
"Hey, Pichit, do you by chance know where Viktor went or where he is? Or if he's trying to maybe contact me at all? Like, maybe he's spoken to you or someone we know?" I ask, hoping he can tell me anything at all. 
"Sorry, Yuuri. . .I don't know anything about him, for all I know he might not even be in Russia anymore. . .I'm sorry."
I hold back some tears and sigh, nodding as if Pichit could see me.
"No it's. . . It's fine. I'll be okay. I bet he'll be home soon so I shouldn't worry. . .Right?"
"Yeah, try to stay positive! We know him, he wouldn't just leave! Would he?"
"I guess it depends on what the problem seems to be. . ."
"What do you mean Yuuri? What happened last night?" He asks me with a concerned tone.
"Listen Pichit, I dunno if I'm ready to talk about it, I wasn't sure I was when I told Viktor. . ."
"That's the thing I don't understand, what is it that could've made him want to leave you? It makes no sense and it sounds pretty stupid in my opinion. Did you mention something about getting a divorce or maybe something like--" He starts rambling like he does when he wants to figure something out. I sigh and interrupt him after a good 45 seconds.
"Pichit, I gotta go. . .It's just a bad time, okay? I'll talk to you soon. I'm sure my parents have already heard the news."
"Oh. . .Right, sorry again Yuuri. Maybe I could come over sometime soon, just for support? I don't mind!"
"No, it's fine, trust me. . ." then I hang up the phone. 

I decide to go feed Makkachin and Scruffy, then make myself some leftover katsudon. I sit on the couch, feeling sick of course, so I'm not too sure if I'm actually gonna eat. I put a hand over my abdomen and sigh softly.
"For being only a week and a half old, you already caused so much trouble. . .I wonder how it will be later in life. . ." That is if it makes it.
With my current stress levels and all the anxiety and worrying I'm doing, I have the feeling it won't be long until it's no longer a problem. 
But that won't fix the fact that my husband left me alone and is most likely not coming back. 

When I've had enough of my brain overthinking every little detail of yesterday, I decide it would be a good time for a shower. When I walk upstairs the two dogs follow me, Makkachin lays down on our- or rather my- bed immediately, Scruffy however whines at me, then starts frantically searching in the blankets. Maybe he lost a bone in there?
No, I know what it is. He's Viktor's dog. He wants him, but I can't produce him, so the small pup whines at me as if to ask where he is. 
"I know, bud. . .You want your daddy. . . But, he's gone. I don't know if he's gonna come back either. . ." I make myself cry once more about this same old topic, and I decide to just go shower.
I don't think of anything besides Viktor, and how much I miss him, and how much it hurts hear his name. 
It all hurts more then any fall or scrape of the knee or punch or kick in the chest.

[5 days later]

I've nearly had enough of this, I know he isn't coming back, and I haven't bothered to look at the landline's messages or my now dead cellphone. Pichit has probably tried to call me a ton of times, but no one has come by to check on me to my knowledge. 
I might have heard a knock on the door once, but I didn't bother to get out of bed. I don't think I've really moved much since Tuesday. . .Was it Tuesday? I don't remember. . .If that's so, then it's about Sunday now. So that makes it six days without Viktor, and the way I'm coping with it is sitting in bed thinking of how miserable I am and avoiding all ways of taking care of my body, which needs it more then ever right now. 
I know Pichit wanted to come and see me, but. . .I haven't called him back, because I have no clue how to tell him. What if the same thing happens with him that happened with Viktor?

I just lay in bed, shutting out the whole world, and I've nearly reached my limit. I haven't been able to throw up lately because I haven't eaten in a few days, and even if I haven't I've gained a little weight. I haven't been feeling anything but sadness and depression, and I've felt a lot of pain in my abdomen and sides. I think I'm killing myself slowly, but I can't tell considering there is a tiny human trying to grow inside of me. I push off the feeling that I should get up and eat something, maybe even go to the doctor, but that's just so much work for my weak, withering body to handle right now. 

The days begin to pass by in a blur, when I can't even tell if it's day or night, or what time it is. I've just been sitting here, in silence, hoping someone reports that I'm dead or something, because really, I mean it when I say I haven't even left my bed in the last few days for anything.

[Another 5 days, just the end of week 2]

I have finally snapped. I can't take this crap anymore. My husband has either left me forever or died. And I can't take the stress of this anymore, it's a wonder that I don't believe I've lost the baby yet. I need to cleanse myself and take care of everything. I must go find Viktor. He must be waiting for me in heaven! I know it!
I could no longer stop myself from believing that I must die to see Viktor. I lock myself in the bathroom and turn the water on, I let myself sit in the tub, still clothed, as the water begins to fill it. I cut my wrists open with the razor Viktor left in the bathroom, and I cry from the pain, and I start to feel woozy, so I lay into the water, letting it come up to my face. I spit out some water at first, then I can't so I just start choking on it, breathing in the water and nearly drowning myself. 
But from the water that is now up to my cheekbones, and dyed ruby red, I see someone. 

Pichit?

. . .No. . It's--

"Yuuri! What did you do!? Why would you do this to yourself?! I can't believe you would ever try to hurt yourself and our children like that!" he yells, taking me out of the bath, turning off the water and wrapping a warm, dry towel around me.
"Viktor. . .?" I mumble weakly, coughing a little bit of water up. "N-no. . .You aren't real, I'm going to see him. ."
"Going to see who?! I'm here! I'm real! Yuuri! Please! Believe me, I'm here!" He says in a panicked voice. I can see the worry on his face, and it seems like he's really tired. Has he slept at all since he left? Is that why he's really here? He's actually standing here because. . .He's worried?
"Why would you do this?" He asks again. I suddenly feel every bit of anger at myself and everything around me turn on him. I only now realized how much it hurt to see him again, and so many questions floated to the top of my head. The only answer to his question I could come up with was "Why did you just leave? You didn't even call. . .Or give me a chance to explain. . ."
"But I did call! I promise you, I did! You never answered the phone, neither one of them! I was so worried. . .I'm sorry, please let me explain everything to you!"
I really didn't want to hear what he had to say, but I decided I would give him a chance to explain to me, as long as he listened to me. He said he knew what I had to say, and I didn't need to explain. 
I guess I would have to listen to him explain exactly why he seemed to disappear for two full weeks on me, but I really started to feel sick again, so maybe this can wait. . .

[A.N.: Okay, told you sad stuff was gonna happen, but trust me cuteness is on its way! And then more sad. . .Fuck! 
But anyway! I hope you are enjoying this story! Please follow and all that shit it would mean lots to me! More is on the way soon, so do not worry!]