It's Always Quiet Before The Storm

It's Always Quiet

Victor's world felt like it was dropping out from under him.

Yuuri wasn't going to stay with him. He was going to leave him after the Grand Prix, this wasn't the plan, this isn't how it was supposed to go. No, no, no!

"I'm sorry Victor, but I don't want you to leave ska- Victor? Victor where are you going?!" Victor was up and running before Yuuri could stop him, sobbing hard as he ran down the hall, punching in the code to the door. He slammed it behind him and staggered into the bathroom, slumping on the floor.

Of course Yuuri was leaving him. Who would want to stay with a freak like him. He could barely take care of himself, he was always alone, he didn't blame Yuuri for running once he saw how much of a mess Victor was.

And he was a horrible coach. He made Yuuri so nervous he almost lost the qualifiers for the Grand Prix and he made his anxiety attack worse. He was a horrible man, horrible, horrible. He curled up in the fetal position on the cold tile floor and shook.

"Victor! Victor please! Open the door! Don't do anything stupid please!" Yuuri was begging him, almost in tears. "Victor please open the door!" That just made him cry harder, clamping his hands over his ears. He didn't deserve this sweet man.

"Yuuri go skate!" He finally shouted back, voice shaky. "NOW!" He bellowed once Yuuri tried to protest. Ugh he felt like even more of a monster as he heard Yuuri sobbing as he walked down the hall.

He fell back on the floor with a little noise. Curling back up on himself. It was over, he was pathetic, and it was over.

Though he was expecting it, he was almost thirty years old and still ice skating? It was a miracle someone hadn't already pulled him off the ice years ago. And going after Yuuri was basically robbing the cradle. He was sick.

He sobbed into the night and woke up freezing, face sticky with old tears and regret.

He checked his phone, Yuuri won gold. But his face resembled Victor's streaked with tears and regret.

Victor escaped the country as fast as he could. He didn't answer any reporters​, he had to get out. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, oh God, oh God, oh G-!

"Vitya, you're panicking."

Yakov's hands were suddenly on his shoulders and he realized how violently he had been shaking. He sat up with a deep breath, thank God they'd been on a private plane. He couldn't deal with the publicity if he was caught on camera having a panic attack.

"Thank you Yakov, I apol-" "You need that boy." Victor was taken back, Yakov never spoke so.....bluntly to him before especially about his relationships. "He hates me now Yakov......I-I can't go back to him." Victor whispered holding himself tightly, he felt another one building "He won gold and now he's retiring."

"If you think that then you're dumber than you look Victor."

Victor froze and turned around. Yurio's look of disdain was clear on his face but he also looked worried.

"That idiot wouldn't stop blubbering in the locker room and then spent a half hour on the ice crying for you. If he doesn't need you then I don't need mood stabilizers."

Yurio's mood stabilizers were extremely important, the boy was a raging storm without them. But he was only doing it to make Victor feel better. So he faked a quick smile and tried to look happy on the flight home.

And now he was staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, at four in the morning. He was.......drained.

Drip, drip, drop.

The tub was leaking again, he had to call the plumber to fix it. It'd give him a reason to actually look alive. He stared at himself in the mirror, disgust building in his throat, self hatred really. Long skinny arms propping up a dead man still breathing, his ocean eyes were dry and his hair was a disaster of silver.

He was warm at least, dressed in a black sweater, sloppy gray sweatpants and fluffy socks. But he still looked like a mess, he hadn't taken care of himself in days. He'd only stumbled into the bathroom to brush his teeth. And now he just stared endlessly. He was forgetting something.

He was, Victor had a heart condition which required medication that he needed to take everyday, lest something happened that was fatal. But he didn't remember it, and as Christophe entered the apartment he left the bathroom, pills on the counter.

"Victor, oh my sweet Victorrrr! No one's seen you and your fiancé since the Gran- oh Victor." Victor felt suddenly self-conscious of how he looked as Chris looked him over. "You two really broke up."

"We did, he wanted to le- fuck!" He clutched his chest as a sudden bolt of pain ripped through him. "Oh fuck that hurt." Chris was at his side in an instant, helping him sit down on the couch as another round of pain ripped through him. "Fuuuuuckk!" He whimpered as he leaned forward.

"Victor I think​ you're having a heart attack." He shook his head, he was too youn- !!!

It was definitely a heart attack, he was seeing black dots and his head was spinning. "Call the police....." He murmured​ as he slumped back on the couch​.

The next few minutes were a pained blur for him. He faintly heard Chris on the phone talking rapidly with the police and herding Makka outside. He heard his phone buzzing but he didn't answer it. Instead he laid there wrapped in a haze of pain, slowly passing out.

The last thing he saw before the world went black was the engagement ring he was going to give to Yuuri.

And then... nothing at all.