Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8585932.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Character:
      Yuri_Plisetsky, Victor_Nikiforov, Katsuki_Yuuri, Nishigori_Yuuko
  Additional Tags:
      Rape/Non-con_Elements, Rape_recovery_in_later_chapters, I'm_Going_To_Hell
      For_This, I'll_add_more_tags_as_I_update_the_work, Torture, i_guess
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-18 Updated: 2018-03-06 Chapters: 4/? Words: 7431
****** Please help me get better, Yuuri!!! ******
by NotMod
Summary
     Something unthinkable happens to Yuri Plisetsky on his visit to
     Japan. In desperation, he turns to the one he hates the most to aid
     in his recovery: Katsuki Yuuri.
***** The Unthinkable *****
      Yuri lay on his bed, headphones in his ears, covers draped over his lithe
body. His blue eyes were closed and his breathing slow and relaxed, and
clutched in his right hand was a plush leopard. The young boy was almost
asleep, but not quite, eyelids occasionally fluttering open to check out his
surroundings. The room was dark, but he could see in grayscale due to the light
of the moon, which shone through the open window. A slight breeze stirred the
curtains and Yuri's pale hair, but he paid no mind. If anything, the cool wind
helped combat the suffocating heat that came from laying under his thick
blanket. He lay still, unmoving and unobservant, his hearing dampened by the
music blasting in his ears. It was likely because of this that he didn't notice
when the door creaked open, and soft footsteps crept towards him.
      The sound of his feet tapping against the wooden floor was muffled by his
slippers and his face was hidden under the shadow that his hood cast. The man
approached Yuri quietly, three strips of fabric clutched in his hand. Before
Yuri could react, the man struck, wrapping one of the strips of fabric over
Yuri's closed eyes, and quickly knotting it behind his head so that the
teenager couldn't see. Crying out in surprise the younger male squirmed around,
but his attacker was too quick. He grabbed Yuri by the forearm and wound the
longest strip of fabric around his wrists, crossing over the ends and knotting
them above Yuri's head.
      Now with his hands bound and his eyes covered, all Yuri could think to do
was scream, and he did, yelling at the top of his lungs until his foe shoved
the last strip of fabric in his mouth, reducing his yells to quiet, muffled
growls. Whimpering, Yuri squirmed and thrashed, but fell still when he felt a
cool hand press against his chest. Through his music, he heard muffled words,
but couldn't make out who said them or what was said. His shirt was abruptly
lifted up and something colder than both the hand that had touched him before
pressed against his pale skin. Yuri stiffened up immediately when he realized
what it was. There was a knife pushing against his skin, and for the first time
since his attacker entered the room, he felt fear instead of anger.
      When the first cut was made between his ribs, Yuri whimpered, the quiet
noise making its way through the gag. The blade dug into his skin again, and
Yuri knew that this cut was deeper, placed side by side with the other. The
cold metal travelled up his body, ghosting over his dusky pink nipple for a
moment before digging in into the flesh around it. The tip of the blade made a
semicircle around the bud, making a deep, curved cut before trailing almost
teasingly up his chest to his collarbones. The pain of being carved had Yuri
panting, and close to tears but he refused to scream. He wouldn't give his
attacker the satisfaction.
      The next few cuts were shallow, and made to his clavicle area. They hurt
just enough to make the young man hiss in pain and squirm to try to get free of
his bonds. He was unsuccessful in everything but tightening the knot. As a
punishment for trying to break free, a swift slice was made across his belly.
Yuri could tell it was deeper than the ones on his clavicle, but he didn't know
if it would need stitches. As time went on, instead of feeling numb and getting
used to the pain like Yuri expected he would, the agony increased as more and
more stinging cuts were placed over his body. He mewled and sobbed through the
gag, thrashing about between each slice, which he would be warned of by a cold
palm pressing against the skin to get more precise cuts.
      As time went on, Yuri found himself close to blacking out. He could feel
blood trickling down his torso and soaking into his sheets, but he knew it
wasn't enough to make him feel this faint. A slender finger traced the gashes
in his milky skin, dipping into the wounds, and painting circles with his
blood. Chest heaving from pain and the effort of trying to escape, Yuri writhed
in his bed, giving himself one last shot at getting free. However, his efforts
didn't last long, and he fell back to the bed, exhausted and in agony.
      As soon as Yuri fell still, unmoving except for the rising and falling of
his chest, his attacked slid one cold hand up and down his sides, caressing the
thin body before him. Chilly fingers pushed up his shirt until it gathered
around his shoulders, then reached back down to play with his nipples. Both
hands were on him now, rubbing his the buds and twirling them between his
fingers. Yuri bit back a gasp at this action, fearing where his assailant was
taking this. After a few moments, the fingers left his chest and rested
parallel to his belly button, and the unseen man leaned forwards, letting his
tongue graze over Yuri's left nipple, tasting the blood from the cut he had
made earlier.
      Yuri tensed up, suddenly hyper-attentive. The feeling of his attacker's
tongue upon him brought him back from the brink of consciousness. He felt
violated, and even worse than he had before. While the possibility that his
antagonist was merely tasting the blood he had spilt still remained, that idea
was shattered when his mouth moved over to Yuri's undamaged nipple, sucking it
and nipping at it and flicking it with his tongue. As his assailant attacked
his nipples with his mouth, Yuri let out a quiet whimper that could barely be
heard through the cloth in his mouth. Though however faint the noise was, it
seemed to egg on the man before him, as those cold hands began roaming below
the waist of Yuri's pajama pants.
      Immediately, Yuri's head shot up and he shook it back and forth, trying
to free himself from the blindfold and gag, or at least his headphones, but
none of them came off. The hand slid down his pants, rubbing Yuri through his
underwear. Naturally, the young boy was less than aroused, though the teasing
of his nipples would have felt nice under normal circumstances.
      After receiving less encouragement than expected, the attacker frowned
under his hood, and yanked Yuri's pants and underwear off, throwing them aside
before bending down to lick at the boy's member. Squealing in surprise, Yuri
tried to move away but the most he could do was press against the bed. Unable
to get away, he whined and gasped as the man's tongue dragged roughly over his
cock. Despite the fear and disgust coursing through him, every now and again,
Yuri would give a small moan. Inspired by the noises that he could just hear
through the gag, the unknown man took Yuri's now half hard cock in his mouth,
sucking at it gently. Though every thought in his mind was screaming against
him, Yuri couldn't help but buck his hips into the other's mouth. He had never
been touched like this before by anyone, and despite the pain that he was
feeling from the gashes on his torso, he couldn't deny the pleasure he was
being given.
      Yuri couldn't believe what was happening. He was being assaulted,
molested. He hadn't expected anything like this to happen when he went to
Japan. He had just expected to find Viktor and bring him back. Now he almost
wished he hadn’t come. Almost. If it meant bringing Viktor back to Russia with
him, maybe, just maybe he could get over what was happening to him, or at least
have something to distract himself from the pain he knew he’d feel in the
morning.
      Teeth grazed over his member and he whimpered, tilting his head back,
exposing his neck. His attacker seemed to view this as an invitation and pulled
away from his cock, mouth trailing sloppy kisses up his body, occasionally
sucking a dark mark on the porcelain skin. When he reached Yuri's neck, he
assaulted the soft skin with gentle bites before leaving more hickeys on the
boy's tender skin.
      Yuri moaned into the gag, shivering at the contact. He by no means liked
it, yet thrills of pleasure made their way down his spine and to his groin.
Turning his head to the side, he whimpered and shook as the skilled mouth of
his assailant assaulted his neck, leaving bright red blemishes. Those cold
hands made their way down his bare body and began stroking his cock
rhythmically, earning tiny moans and gasps that were muffled by the gag. He
wanted to cry out, to tell the mysterious man to stop, but the fabric in his
mouth prevent him from forming words.
      Suddenly, the hands and mouth were off him, the man clicked something
open. Yuri, grateful for the pause, began to struggle again, despite having no
energy. Meanwhile, his attacker poured the cold liquid onto his fingers,
throwing down the bottle he no longer had any use for and using his spare hand
to spread Yuri's legs. Yuri immediately began protesting, making any noise he
could through the gag as the fingers were pressed against his hole. He thrashed
about, making sure he didn't keep still for even a second. Maybe he couldn't
stop whoever was doing this to him, but he sure as hell could make it
difficult.
      The first finger pressed into him and Yuri inhaled sharply. It felt
uncomfortable to say the least, and a bit painful, but it wasn't as bad as the
knife. However, Yuri knew he would take the knife any day instead of being
violated in this way. As another finger joined the first and began stretching
the young boy out, the pain began to set in. Yuri whimpered and pressed his
face into the mattress, his bound hands making fists. More than anything, he
wanted this to stop. He would even give up Viktor if it meant he never had to
face this again. Yet, the fingers did not stop probing and poking at his
insides, both stretching him and looking for that spot that would make his
attacker hear those beautiful moans, ones loud enough to pierce the gag.
      It didn't take long for the man to find it, and Yuri cried out, just loud
enough for the sound to carry through the cloth. The boy knew that if he hadn't
been blindfolded, tears would now be flowing freely down his face, and he was
grateful that the other man wasn't able to see him cry, even if he was able to
hear his sobbing. A kiss was pressed to his temple and Yuri shivered, shying
away. As the man's fingers moved in an out of his rear, repeatedly hitting his
sweet spot, Yuri gasped, too caught up in the feeling to try to move away.
However, after a few minutes of that, the fingers were taken out and there was
another pause before Yuri felt something much bigger poking at his entrance.
      Yuri began screaming again, but kept as still as he could as the other
man entered him. It already hurt enough without him thrashing around. As the
attacker began thrusting in and out, a hand reached around and began stroking
him again. Yuri bit back a sob, feeling his tears wetting the blindfold. The
man easily found his sweet spot again and began thrusting to hit it without
much effort. As the thrusts began increasing in speed and intensity, Yuri found
himself losing it. He was trembling and moaning despite himself, and despite
how much he hated what was being done to him, he was overwhelmed with pleasure.
      One hand on Yuri's hip, and the other on the boy's member, the attacker
pounded against his sweet spot while stroking his cock in time with his thrust.
It barely hurt anymore, though it still felt uncomfortable, but Yuri was too
far gone to remember that. Drool leaked out of the edges of his mouth and his
toes were curled. He knew he was close to orgasm, even though it was the last
thing he wanted. Even through all the pleasure, Yuri knew that this was rape
and every bone in his body was screaming at him, begging him not to come.
      However, it only took a few minutes of this unwanted sex before Yuri
came. Warm, sticky semen splattered over his chest and stuck to his shirt, and
Yuri shook, moaning loudly into the gag. He felt dirty, ashamed, and as he came
down from his high, his body shook with sobs. He couldn't believe he had
climaxed to his own rape. Tears dampened the rag around his eyes and he turned
his head to the side to make sure his attacker didn't see his face.
      Not long after Yuri's climax did the other man orgasm, and Yuri's head
shot up as he felt himself filled with his foe's semen. The man pulled out,
wiping himself off on the sheets, and stood up. He tucked his penis back into
his pants. He ran his fingers through Yuri's platinum hair in an almost loving
motion, entwining his fingers in the blonde strands. His lips pressed against
Yuri's cheek, and he whispered something which went unheard by the younger boy.
      After he pulled away from his loving caress of the younger boy, the man
chuckled, slowly and methodically untying Yuri's hands, careful not to
completely undo the knot. Having given himself time to escape while the blonde
broke free of the knot which was now loose enough to wiggle out of, he padded
towards the door, casting one last glance at the mess of a boy that lay on the
bed. It was just as he closed the door that Yuri broke free of the fabric that
bound him and ripped off his blindfold, looking wildly around the room but
seeing nothing but the moon hanging in the sky.
      Once Yuri was free, he began examining his wounds in the starlight,
unable to see much but dark lines across his torso. He tried to sit up to get a
better look at the gashes on his chest, but decided that sitting up was too
painful. As soon as he saw what had been done to him, tears welled in his eyes
once again, and he curled up, face pressed into his pillow, and began to sob
once more. In his exhaustion, it didn't take him long to fall asleep, and his
last thought before he passed into unconsciousness was a prayer that he woke up
in the morning before anyone had a chance to find him, bloody and broken.
***** Oh Yuri, don't get blood on the ice! *****
Chapter Summary
     Remember that deep gash to Yuri's stomach? Wouldn't it be a shame if
     a bad fall happened to... make it worse...? Wouldn't it be shame if
     Yuri had to go to the hospital? Wouldn't it be a shame if...
     *gasp*... people found out what happened to Yuri the previous night?
     Stay tuned, for next week, we'll be facing a classic case of
     whodunit! (or will we?)
     Also, I don't have a Beta, so if you notice any spelling mistakes,
     PLEASE tell me!
"Yurio, are you okay?" Viktor called from the sidelines of the rink, worry on
his face. It was the third time Yuri had missed his jump and ended up falling
onto the cold hard ice. He could tell that Viktor was concerned, and he didn't
exactly blame him. He was tiring more quickly than usual, and with every
movement when he'd hiss in pain, Yuri wished it wasn't so obvious that he was
hurting.
He had rehearsed Agape already once today, but he had performed so poorly that
Viktor had demanded he do it again. By that time, Yuri was already panting,
sweat pouring down his pale forehead, but he didn't demand a break. He didn't
want to raise any more suspicion than his shoddy skating already had. By now
the Japanese Yuri, Yuuri Katsuki, was staring at him, eyes glued to the younger
boy and shining with apprehension and worry. Yuri resented that, and shot him a
him a glare before replying to Viktor's question.
"I'm fine, I just..." he paused, trying to think up an excuse, finally deciding
on "My stomach hurts, but I'll be fine." It wasn't exactly a lie. His attacker
had inflicted a deep gash in his stomach that stung whenever he moved. It had
only just stopped bleeding when he had woken up in the morning. Now he was
certain that the bleeding had started up again, as the skin around the wound
felt moist and sticky. He was suddenly thankful for his dark clothing for
hiding the bloodstains.
As Yuri begun skating again, his legs began to shake. They were still weak from
the abuse he had suffered last night and all the exercise he was doing didn't
help. Each time he moved his legs, pain shot through his spine, but he pressed
on, aiming to redo the combination jump that he had just flubbed. Putting all
his concentration into it, he leapt into the air but sadly he messed it up
again, not even managing his first jump, which, although was rather difficult,
was one he seldom missed.
Yuri fell to the ice again, landing awkwardly on his side. He couldn't hear
anything but his heart pounding in his ears, and couldn't feel anything but the
pain in his stomach and behind. His eyes managed to focus on Viktor and Yuuri,
who were both running towards him onto the ice, but he couldn't figure out why.
It was just a missed jump, right?
And then Yuri saw it. The blood from the gash in his stomach was seeping into
the ice, staining it a bright red. "Shit." he gasped. He hadn't realized the
bleeding was that bad, or at least he didn't think it was bad enough to be seen
from meters away. Perhaps he had torn the skin further when he landed? Oh well,
he didn't have time to think about it now, not with both older men headed for
him.
Viktor and Yuuri wordlessly helped him up and off the ice, bringing him into
the change room and sitting him down on a bench. Though annoyed with their
help, he reluctantly accepted it, as walking by himself was painful. Once
seated, Yuri looked at the floor, horrified to see tiny crimson droplets
leading out the door and into the rink. He stared at the drops of blood for a
few minutes, only to be snapped out of his disassociation by Viktor's cold hand
touching his side.
"Stop!" he snapped, batting Viktor's hand away. He didn't want to be touched,
not after what had happened last night. He could feel the chill of Viktor's
hand even through his shirt, and it painfully reminded him of the icy hands
that had been all over his body only hours before.
Viktor got up from his sitting position beside Yuri and kneeled in front of
him, gripping Yuri's smaller hands tightly enough that he couldn't pull away.
"What happened?" he asked softly as Yuuri looked on worriedly.
At first, Yuri didn't answer. He hung his head, his blonde hair falling over
his shoulders as he remembered the horrors of the previous night. The hands
running over him, the blade of the knife pressing into his side, the warm
tongue assaulting his neck. He shivered as he remembered it. Yuri decided that
he couldn't tell Viktor the truth, not if he ever wanted to be looked at
without pity. Brushing hair out of his turquoise eyes, he mumbled "I must have
fallen on my skate."
Viktor stared at him for what seemed like the longest time before speaking in a
soft, reassuring voice. "No, Yurio, that's not what happened. Your skates
weren't anywhere close to your torso when you landed."
Yuri took a deep breath and nodded. "I know." he murmured. "I know." Warm tears
sprung to life in his eyes and Viktor seemed to panic at the sight of them, not
quite knowing what to do or why the young skater was crying. Yuuri too Viktor's
former spot beside him, but faced his coach instead of the other Yuri. They
exchanged a glance before Yuuri leaned forwards, reaching for the hem of Yuri's
shirt. He was immediately swatted away.
"Don't, you pig!" Yurio growled, wiping the tears from his eyes. Even though he
had seemed so vulnerable just seconds ago, he had snapped back into his usual
aggressive personality.
"You're losing a lot of blood, Yurio." said Yuuri calmly, reaching forwards
once again. "We need to see the wound." Yuri was surprised that the Japanese
man was so collected, seeing as Viktor was close to freaking out. He'd have
thought it would be the opposite way around. Hesitantly, he let Yuuri lift up
his shirt, and nearly fainted at what he saw.
The wound was covered in thick red blood, and was deep enough for Yuri to see
small bubbles of fat inside of it. The edges were raised and the gash was
almost as thick as his thumb. With a gasp, Yuuri let the shirt fall back down
and turned to Viktor, who looked thoroughly shocked.
"Get Yuuko!" he commanded urgently, and Viktor nodded, springing to his feet
and rushing out of the change room as quickly as he could while still wearing
his skates. Yuri watched him leave, swaying slightly.
The motion didn't go unnoticed by Yuuri, who put a hand on his shoulder to
steady him. His hands were warmer than Viktor's and Yuri took comfort in that.
He sighed, touching a hand to the bloody cloth of his shirt and looked at his
now scarlet fingers.
"Yurio?" Yuuri prompted gently, squeezing his shoulder. The younger skater
turned to face him, blinking slowly. "Are you okay? Do you feel faint at all?"
Yuuri asked, his deep brown eyes wide with concern. Yuri didn't want to admit
it, but he felt too weak to be his usual angry response, so he replied with a
feeble nod that made his head spin.
Yuuri sighed, looking down at the wound once again. It was still pumping blood,
which was now dripping on to the floor, creating a decent sized puddle. By now
Yurio's skin was pale and he felt sick to his stomach. He didn't want to panic,
but seeing the pool of blood on the ground was making him freeze up. He tried
to speak, but his words became jumbled together as the rolled off his tongue,
and he ended up babbling something in Russian instead.
Yuuri was worried. This was way more blood than he knew how to handle. He knew
that if someone was bleeding a lot, you were supposed to put pressure on the
wound, but he had been reluctant to do so earlier out of fear of causing Yuri
pain. Now, it seemed, he didn't have much of a choice. Yuri appeared to be
going into shock, and the amount of blood he was losing was substantial. Taking
a deep breath, the Japanese man pressed his palm over the gash, earning a sharp
inhale from Yuri. Despite the fact that he knew he was inflicting pain on the
other, he found comfort in the fact that Yuri was still alert enough to respond
to pain.
Soon, Viktor returned, Yuuko in tow. They were both out of breath. "We called
the ambulance." Yuuko panted, leaning against the wall. As she caught her
breath, her eyes travelled around the room, and landed on the pool of blood
below the Yuris. Both her hands flew to her mouth and she seemed to shake a
little. "I didn't realize it was that bad." She whispered through her fingers.
Yuri groaned, eyes flickering shut for a moment before snapping them back open.
He was trying his hardest to stay awake, but it was difficult. He felt faint,
and the feeling was growing my the minute as was the puddle of blood beneath
him. As much as Yuuri tried to stop the flow of blood from his wound, some
still trickled through his fingers.
His vision was beginning to blur and the world swirled around him. Yuri didn't
like it one bit. He found himself wishing he had stayed in Russia. None of this
would have happened if he had stayed in Russia. "Yuuri..." he whispered,
turning to face the other. He didn't know what he was going to say, but as much
as he hated the man, he was grateful for the support. He was to dizzy to
register Viktor staring at him, eyes wide with fright.
"Yurio!" Viktor cried, making Yuuko and Yuuri jump. Yuri remained mostly still,
but directed his eyes to the Russian man. "Why did you skate if you were hurt?
Why didn't you tell me?" There was a hint of a whine in his voice, but he
mostly sounded worried. His blue eyes were wide as he stepped towards the
younger boy, but Yuuri held out his free hand to stop him.
"Not now, Viktor. He's really hurt." Yuuri chided, pressing harder against
Yurio's wound, causing the blonde to hiss in pain and Yuuri to subsequently
apologize. Yuri couldn't hear much, as his senses were going dull, but he
managed to pick up the sound of sirens. His eyes widened and he tried to squirm
from Yuuri's grasp, though he found he didn't have the energy.
"You called the ambulance!?" he gasped with all the strength he could muster.
The last thing he wanted was the paramedics to get involved. If the paramedics
got involved, surely they'd notice the hickeys on his neck, and the dark marks
on his body. Surely they'd know what had happened to him the night before, and
surely there'd be some sort of investigation. He didn't want that. He didn't
anyone to know what had happened to him. The three others exchanged a glance.
"We're sorry, Yuri, but you're really hurt!" Yuuko answered, giving a
sympathetic frown.
Yuri was angry. With his consciousness quickly fading, he needed to fight back,
and fight back quickly. Pushing Yuuri away, he shuffled to his feet, only to
fall down after taking a step.
"Yurio!" his three spectators cried out, and Yuuri jumped forwards, catching
him before he hit the floor. Viktor and Yuuko looked on worriedly.
The next few minutes were fuzzy. Yuri remembered being cradled in Yuuri's arms,
and Viktor whispering soft, soothing words to him in Russian, but not much
else. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide and chest heaving as Viktor
brushed strands of blond hair out of his face. Then Viktor said something that
snapped Yuri wide awake.
"Yurio, what are those on your neck?"
Yuuri started to reprimand Viktor, telling him it wasn't the time to ask such
questions, but then he noticed the marks himself. Despite his lack of romantic
experience, he knew immediately that they were hickeys. Yuri's hair had hidden
them while he was practicing, but now that he had his hair pushed back, they
were painfully obvious. As the sound of sirens got closer, Yuuri, Viktor, and
Yuuko all shared a look, wondering just what had happened to the young skater
to leave him in such bad shape.
***** I'm in a hospital... I don't actually know what I expected. *****
Chapter Summary
     Yuri spends the night in the hospital and someone brings him flowers
     <3
Yuri awoke to bright overhead lights shining in his eyes. His head was spinning
and he expected to feel pain, but he didn't. In fact, he didn't feel anything
at all except annoyance at the bright light that had him squinting. Slowly, he
turned his head, knowing what he would see, but still shocked at it. He was in
a small cot in an area separated from the rest of the room by only a curtain.
There was a table beside him with a bouquet of flowers laying on it. An IV was
in his arm and his shirt was off and covering his midsection were bandages that
were stained dark brown with dried blood. Beside the cot there was a monitor
displaying what appeared to be his heartbeat, and as he turned his head to look
forwards, he saw a hallway full of people and stretchers. His breathing
quickened as he began to panic.
He barely heard the beeping and the footsteps of doctors and nurses approaching
him as fear overtook him. He didn't register their touch as he tried to get out
of bed, clambering over the rails that kept him from falling out. He felt
scared, and his fear was keeping him moving, despite the pain that shot through
his body whenever he moved. It was only when a cold hand touched Yuri, who was
forcibly being restrained by several nurses did he freeze up. That hand felt
all too familiar, and even though Yuri told himself that it couldn't be the
same one that had touched him before, he remained still, chest heaving from
effort.
Viktor smiled down at him, blue eyes tired but glimmering. "Yurio! You're
awake!" he clapped both his icy hands over Yuri's, making sure that it was the
hand free of the IV before he acted. There were bags under his eyes and his
silver hair was mussed. He looked as if he hadn't slept in several days.
Yuri blinked at him several times, trying to process what had happened before
asking in a hoarse voice "I'm... I'm in the hospital?" he whispered, wishing
Viktor would take his hands off of him. He knew there was no way that Viktor
was the one who had hurt him, but the feeling was too close to what he
remembered. He knew he was stating the obvious with his question, but he wanted
to hear it from someone he trusted, and not from some nurse who he had never
met.
Viktor nodded and ran those cold hands through Yuri's hair, making the younger
boy shiver and wince away. "Don't touch me." He snapped, pushing himself into a
sitting position despite the burning feeling he felt under the bandages. Out of
the corner of his eye, he saw the obnoxiously pink curtains part and a young
man peek through, his mouth covered with a paper mask.
"He's awake!" the young man exclaimed and Yuri squinted to get a better look at
him. He too had bags under his eyes, but his mussed hair was dark, and his
tired eyes a deep brown. He was a couple of inches shorter than Viktor and was
wearing a heavy coat. It didn't take Yuri long to figure out who it was.
"Oh, it's you..." he grumbled, turning away from Yuuri, exposing his marked
neck. He heard Yuuri inhale sharply, and it took him a moment to realize why he
reacted that way. Quickly slapping a hand to his neck to cover the hickeys, he
stared at the wall opposite of his bed with determination.
He hated all the attention. He hated that Yuuri and Viktor were crowding around
him, making him feel uncomfortable. If he was being honest with himself, he
just wanted to curl up in a ball in his room and cry for a bit. Unfortunately
for Yuri, he didn't think he was getting out of the hospital any time soon and
he was sure that once he did, the two men would be tailing him to keep him
safe, or to make sure he didn't hurt himself.
He wanted to. He wanted to hurt himself, and he wanted to die. He felt filthy,
unclean, ruined. Something his pride, his dignity, and so much more had been
taken away from him on that night and left him with wounds that would take time
to heal. Yes, Yuri wanted to end it all but he knew he couldn't. He had to
persevere for Viktor, for his grandpa, and for everyone else at home. He wasn't
about to give up.
"Yurio!" a strong voice jerked him out of his thoughts, causing him to whip his
head around until his was facing Yuuri and Viktor. He knew immediately who had
spoken from the tone of voice and he pulled a sour face, trying to mask his
fear and self-hatred behind his usual expressions. The last thing he wanted was
to be questioned right now, but he had to put on a brave face.
"What?" he sighed, his voice coming out more tired and weary than he had
intended. Viktor picked up on his exhausted tone immediately but didn't back
off. Instead he leaned forwards until he was hovering over Yuri, a frown on his
face. The happiness that he had gotten from seeing Yuri awake was fading, and
he was left with a fatigued expression.
Viktor hesitated before he spoke, gripping the bedrails until his knuckles
turned white. "What happened to you?" he asked, even though it was fairly
obvious. He wanted to hear what Yuri had to say on the matter, though, and to
help him prepare for when the police got wind that he was conscious and decided
to question him.
Yuri took a moment to answer. He was hyperaware of the eyes glued to him, and
he wished they would all just go away. He took a deep, calming breath, keeping
his head bowed so he didn't have to look at either of the men surrounding him.
"I was raped." he muttered, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw shock on
their faces. He knew that they had suspected it, but to have him confirm it was
a surprise.
Next, Yuuri spoke, taking a step forwards to stand by Viktor, who appeared to
be shaking with rage. "Who hurt you?" Yuuri inquired, and Yuri could see the
pity on his face. He didn't want to be pitied. He wanted to be the feared but
respected Russian Punk he was known for being, but now he didn't know if he had
the strength to keep up with his reputation.
Once again, Yuri didn't reply immediately. He took a second to answer, his eyes
darting around the room, narrowed and daring anyone to pity him. "I don't
know." his voice came out as a low growl, his accent more obvious than ever in
his distress. "I had my earbuds in and I was blindfolded." he explained,
feeling bad that he didn't know who the perpetrator was, and scared at the
knowledge that he could be anywhere and Yuri would be unable to recognize him.
He was shaking now, scared of whoever was out there, wanting to hurt him. He
was scared of what they'd do to him if they ever saw him again. Yuri knew that
he wouldn't be able to handle a repeat attack, he was too weak. Despite his
apparent physical and mental strength, he was still just a kid, and no matter
how strong he looked, he couldn't deal with this alone. However, he couldn't
ask anyone for help. He just couldn't. Perhaps he was scared, or ashamed, or
some combination of the two, but he couldn't picture himself asking anyone
around him for help. Besides, the person he trusted most, his grandpa, wouldn't
understand, or at least that was what Yuri told himself. The next person on his
list, Viktor, looked like he was close to breaking down.
"Yurio!" A hand was waved in front of his face and he blinked, swatting it
away. He wasn't in the mood to play games. In fact, all he wanted was to be
left alone. Sighing, he turned his head to face the speaker, Yuuri.
"What?" He sighed wearily, snuggling deeper under his thin white sheet. It
scratched at his skin and made him itch something horrible, but he couldn't
bring himself to scratch, as he was already wounded badly enough.
Yuuri gave him a friendly smile, tucking the sheets up to his chin for him. "I
asked if you wanted me to get you anything. A snack, maybe, or another
blanket?" he asked, raising his voice a little above his usual tone, which Yuri
despised. He was injured, not deaf. Viktor looked down at Yuri, stopping his
shaking after a moment, seeming to realize that he wouldn't help by showing his
discomfort.
"A glass of water?" Viktor chimed in, trying to put on his usual cheerful face,
but Yuri wasn't buying it. He shook his head and uttered a quiet 'no', staring
directly at Viktor and Yuuri. An expression that resembled anger crossed
Viktor's face for a second, but Yuri dismissed it, knowing he was probably
shocked by the whole situation.
Yuri sighed deeply as the two men kept offering him things. He didn't want
anything that they could give him. He wanted to turn back time, make it so that
that night had never happened, but he knew that was impossible. Instead,he
glared at Yuuri and Viktor as they pestered him with questions. Wishing they'd
just go away, he sat up, throwing back his itchy sheets. An urge to scream
filled him, and he slammed his fists down onto his legs, giving the men the
angriest look he could muster.
"Fine!" He yelled. "Get me some juice or something. I don't give a damn, just
get out of my hair!"
Viktor took a step back, looking as if Yuri had slapped him across the face,
but Yuuri only appeared shocked for a second before giving an understanding
smile. He dipped his head, grabbing Viktor's sleeve and tugging it gently,
effectively pulling the older man out of the room. Yuri couldn't help but
notice that Viktor was shaking again as he left, his steps ever so slightly out
of alignment. He wondered what was up with him.
Yuri sighed, enjoying his peace and quiet that allowed him to wallow in his
thoughts for a moment. However, his thoughts of self hatred and pity were
interrupted as a young female figure pushed her way through the curtains. The
woman who now stood before him was wearing a nurse's uniform and had dark,
pretty hair yet she didn't interest Yuri in the slightest. He took a deep
breath before uttering a single "Go away.".
The pretty nurse gave him a sad smile before parting the curtain again with her
small, slender hands. "I wish I could." she said in a heavily accented voice.
"But you have visitor." Two police officers peeked around the curtain and Yuri
groaned out loud, laying his head against the pillow, suddenly exhausted.
It was almost an hour before the police left, and by the time they did, Yuri
was almost asleep. His encounter had been exhausting, as all the cops had done
was ask him questions, no matter how many times he told them that he didn't
know anything about his attacker. He was tired of the same old questions that
he didn't know the answer to, and was beyond relieved by the time they left,
but his peace didn't last long. As soon as the police left, they were replaced
by Viktor and Yuuri who had with them a juice box and a cookie.
Yuri tried to grimace but ended up grinning as Yuuri handed him the snacks. He
was happy that the police had stopped bothering him, and for once, Viktor and
Yuuri seemed refreshing instead of annoying. Munching on the cookie, he gave
the duo a genuine smile, noticing the vase of flowers next to him. "Who sent
these?" he asked with his mouth full, crumbs spilling down onto his hospital
gown.
Yuuri chuckled as Yuri finished his cookie and downed his juice in seconds,
throwing the empty box to the side. "I don't know. They were here when Viktor
and I arrived." he said, casting a glance at Viktor, who looked back at him,
narrowing his eyes and grasping Yuuri's hand tightly before forcing a smile. He
looked so tired, Yuri noticed. Viktor was not acting like his usual self. For
once, Yuri missed that. He missed Viktor's annoying cheerfulness and lack of
caring for personal space. Well, maybe not that last part, but the cheefulness
did seem nice right about now.
Noticing a note among the flowers that had been delivered, Yuri picked it up,
fiddling with the edges and staring absentmindedly at the texture of the paper.
He took a moment to flip the card over, wondering if it had a clue as to who
had sent the flowers.
Yuri's blood ran cold as he saw what was written on the card. The faint smile
on his face quickly dropped and he hid the slip of paper under his sheets,
hoping no one noticed the action. Viktor turned to Yuri, concern shining in his
blue eyes. "Where'd that smile go?" he asked, frowning deeply, confused and
worried, but Yuri only shrugged and sighed quietly. Yuuri wasn't ask quick to
pick up on his change of mood, but as soon as Viktor spoke, he seemed to
realize that something was wrong. Giving Yuri a questioning look, he spoke.
"What's wrong, Yurio?" Yuuri asked, worry crossing his face. Yuri still didn't
speak, shoving the card farther under his covers. He was avoiding meeting
anyone's gaze, but his guests could still see the fear clouding his expression.
Viktor reached out to touch him, eyes widening as he realized the boy was
shaking. He had noticed what had scared Yuri enough to force him into this
state, but made no attempt to retrieve the card. His first priority was
comforting the boy before him. He gazed at Yuri, eyes gentle as his thumb drew
circles over his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "Are you okay?" Viktor
asked quietly, his voice calm and soothing, but Yuri pulled away almost
immediately, anger flashing across his face.
"Don't touch me!" he yelled in Russian, Viktor's cold hands reminding him of
the ones that had touched his body the night before. The reminder of the things
that had happened to him plus the ominous note were enough to set him over the
edge. Tears began to well in his eyes, pouring down his cheeks as he sobbed,
whole body shuddering with every breath. Viktor warily stepped back, not
knowing what to do with the crying boy. He wanted to apologize, but he didn't
think that Yuri would take it well in this state. He was curious, however, as
to why Yuri had suddenly switched back into his native language when they were
used to speaking English around eachother when Yuri was present.
Yuuri, not understanding Yuri's plea to stay away, stepped forwards, taking one
of Yuri's hands in his own, which were significantly warmer than Viktor's. Yuri
didn't mind so much because of that. He looked at Yuuri, sniffling quietly. "D-
don't... don't touch..." he whispered, still in Russian.
Getting the gist, Yuuri backed off, though he still looked at him with concern.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, but Yuri shook his head, sliding further under
the sheets until only the top of his head poked out. Viktor and Yuuri exchanged
a glance, confusion in their eyes, but there wasn't much they could do. At
first, Viktor tried to coax him out from under the covers, but Yuuri stopped
him, explaining that Yuri might need some alone time after what happened to
him. Though Viktor initially looked hurt, he sighed and accepted the fact that
there was nothing to do to make the boy feel better.
Once under the covers, Yuri picked up the note that had been left, examining
the letters etched on it in red pen. The writing looked familiar, but he
couldn't place where it was from. Even though the words were simple, they
struck fear into Yuri's already broken heart. The card was written in Russian,
large red letters taking up the page. It read "I'll be back, Yuri."
***** Update *****
So I really didn't expect this fic to get that much attention, and I wrote it
when I was not much older than Yuri myself. I kind of hate myself for it and I
hate myself for making it the longest thing I've ever written. A few of you
have commented recently, asking if I'll update it, and the answer is no. I
won't. The truth is, I was really angry with the ending of YOI and it kind of
turned me off from the series. Aside from that, in the 1 and a half years since
I wrote it, my morals have changed exponentially and I really don't enjoy the
whole "Underage character gets brutally raped." thing. If I'm being truthfully
honest with y'all, this fic is part of the reason I abandoned the YOI fandom,
and will be the reason I abandon this account. Seeing as many of you actually
enjoyed this, I won't delete it and you will be able to find it if you so
desire, but I don't want it to mar my record as a writer. So, fans, this is
goodbye.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!