"Yuuri?" Viktor's eyes sparkle as the ice reflects against them, and Yuuri feels dizzy. He'd like to say it's because Viktor is staring at him - something that he has, truthfully, always found unsettling. But, unfortunately, it's not that. It's not that at all.

He's sick - definitely, inconveniently sick.

Possibly Dying.

Okay, well, probably not dying.

But he might as well be.

Because this cannot be happening.

He cannot be sick right now.

There's a crowd around him chattering and cheering in at least seven different languages, and an announcer calling him to the center of the rink.

Usually, this is really, incredibly overwhelming for him, and focusing on Viktor and Viktor alone is the only way he can focus on putting one skate in front of the other and tune out everything else that's going on around him.

But right now, everything seems fuzzy and distant anyway, like it's just static background noise, completely irrelevant to him.

He feels sluggish and far away, like the ice rink isn't really beneath him, holding him up.

It's very unsettling.

But, unfortunately, it's something he's just going to have to power through.

Because being sick right now is simply out of the question.

He has a Grand Prix final to win.

Regardless of how the fabric from his costume feels unnaturally hot, tight, and uncomfortable.

Regardless of how unusually wobbly he feels on his skates.

Regardless of how faint he feels simply from Viktor's hand squeezing his for luck.

He's so close to getting gold.

And he needs gold.

Gold is what Viktor wants him to have.

His short program already has him in first.

So it's within his grasp.

Not easily, perhaps.

But it's possible.

He just has to outscore...

Viktor? Yurio? Viktor and Yurio?

He thinks...

That seems right...

He'd kind of started spacing out and dozing somewhere in the middle of his competitors' free skate performances.

He'd only made it out to the rink on cue because Yurio had punched him awake and demanded to know how he was going to beat him fair and square if he didn't even get his ass out on the ice.

He'd just barely seen the end of Viktor's free skate - he's an absolutely terrible fiancé, sick or not.

He absently rubs his finger against his ring as Viktor calls his name again. "Yuuri...Yuuri, are you alright?"

Yuuri shakes his head and tries to meet Viktor's gaze. Viktor runs his eyes over him with concern before leaning down to kiss his ring. "You're thinking too much, Yuuri...I want to kiss the gold, but the gold is mine if it is yours or if it is mine." His eyes gleam brighter somehow as he grins wide. "It's good that we're competing together. I have two chances now."

Unsurprisingly, Viktor is mistaking his spaciness on nerves and anxiety.

Certainly some of it is nerves and anxiety.

He's under a lot of pressure here really.

But, you know, also, probably, delirious.

Which has to be what possesses him to passionately declare to Viktor, "I'll win the gold so we can get married tonight!"

He feels his cheeks color - from fever or feeling he's not entirely sure - as he leans down to kiss Viktor's ring before turning for the center of the rink.

Viktor smiles brightly. "That's the spirit, Yuuri! I certainly don't want to marry Yurio."

XXX

Although initially elated, as Yuuri glides seamlessly to the center of the rink, Viktor watches with growing concern.

He's used to Yuuri being keyed up with performance anxiety.

Truthfully, anxious is just generally Yuuri's state of being.

So he's surprised that Yuuri simply let the joke about Yurio go without even a backwards glance. He'd regretted it as soon as he said it, but Yuuri didn't seem to have even noticed.

And now, standing in the middle of the ice, he doesn't look nervous at all.

In fact, he looks drained, almost like he's going to nod off before the music starts.

Which is odd.

Viktor supposes anyone competing in this would be tired at this point.

He knows he's exhausted.

But Yuuri has more stamina than most.

(And hasn't been coaching and competing).

So something is really off here.

He just isn't quite sure what.

XXX

The first notes of "Yuuri Off Ice" fall on his ears and Yuuri raises his arms to greet them.

The piece is meant to symbolize how his life has changed outside of skating. Although, he supposes it's entirely because of skating, he's leading a completely different life than he was at the last Grand Prix.

He lives in Russia.

He has a second family.

He has a fiancé.

Like a definite fiancé.

Like he somehow managed to sit Viktor down and tell him the actual initial intent of the matching rings, but also that it was sort of more than okay if the rings became engagement rings.

And so they did.

So, in many ways, his life feels like gold now.

In a way it certainly hadn't before.

He closes his eyes as he turns and spins into a triple axel.

His head may hurt.

His limbs may feel heavier than usual.

His muscles may ache more than usual.

But he certainly can't let something as trivial as the flu prevent him from marrying Viktor for another whole year.

There's a gold mist ahead of him, and he's going to skate straight into it.

He doesn't think; he simply soars.

XXX

Viktor has heard "Yuri Off Ice" and seen Yuuri's performance of it he can't even count how many times.

Yet, knowing that most of its inspiration came from his relationship with Yuuri usually leads him to wearing a dopey smile while he watches. It doesn't hurt, either, that Yuuri usually has a matching one as he daydreams about him in the middle of the piece.

(Since he knows now that that's what Yuuri is thinking about; he'd always wondered.)

Yet, right now, in the middle of the Grand Prix final, Yuuri's face is slightly flushed, but, otherwise, blank - seemingly emotionless.

His performance, so far, is completely gold worthy- he's almost jealous of how Yuuri's landing his jumps - yet Viktor can't help feeling there's something not quite right about it.

He sees Yuuri on the ice, but he seems, somehow, detached from it.

XXX

It's slightly past the halfway point in his routine when Yuuri really starts to think that he's made a terrible mistake.

At the beginning, he seemed to have managed mind over matter; he doesn't think there was anything noticeably off about his performance.

But now, the more times he spins, the more times he thinks he's going to fall flat on the ice and just lie there.

Because he's so tired and sore that sleeping with his head against the ice seems perfectly reasonable. He's not sure that he'd even care that it's literally freezing. A pillow is a pillow, after all.

Maybe if he wins the gold, they'll litter the rink with gold pillows for him instead of giving him a medal. He thinks he deserves that when this ordeal is over.

Or maybe before.

He shakes his head and tries to simply picture Viktor.

He can do this.

He has to do this.

XXX

Viktor watches as Yuuri starts to falter, with a quick frustrated shake of his head, and he suddenly knows what's wrong.

Yuuri had been more than a little off all morning.

He'd been impossible to coax out of bed, which, in itself wasn't all that unusual, but usually, once Yuuri was up, he was up.

That hadn't been the case at all today.

Victor had taken a jog around the city to ease some of his own pre-competition jitters while Yuuri had somehow managed to fall back asleep at the small table in their hotel kitchenette.

When he came back, he had all but force fed him a couple bites of the oatmeal he'd fallen asleep next to since he kept claiming he wasn't even a little bit hungry.

And, really, most of that could be blamed on nerves and jet lag, but Viktor's almost positive it's something else.

Yurio manages to confirm it by muttering angrily about Yuuri sleeping through both of their routines, after all the hard work they'd done together.

And if Viktor knows one thing about Yuuri, it's that he'd never sleep in the middle of a competition, and certainly not during his or Yurio's performances. He cares far too much for that.

Viktor shakes his head. "Oh Yuuri, you idiot."

XXX

Just a little bit more to the routine now.

Just a step sequence.

And a toe loop.

And a ...

God.

Yuuri feels tears of frustration prick at his eyes.

He can't remember what comes next.

A quad flip?

Followed by a sit spin?

That seems right.

Every fiber of his being wants nothing more than to skate to the edge of the rink and climb over it and just be done.

He's not sure what made him think this was a good idea.

It certainly wasn't.

XXX

Yuuri isn't going to make it through the routine in one piece, Viktor decides, after watching for further signs that Yuuri isn't alright.

He keeps blinking, as though he would otherwise be unable to keep his eyes open, his arms and legs are almost visibly trembling from exertion, and there's a tear track running down his cheek.

The tear breaks Viktor.

He has to get Yuuri off the ice.

He puts no thought whatsoever into his plan.

He just does it.

He moves to the closest gate, opens it, and speeds out to Yuuri, thankful he hadn't had time to take off his skates.

Yuuri successfully lands a quad flip right in front of him before Viktor places his hand on his shoulder.

"Viktor?"

His voice is filled with confusion but also a hint of relief.

"Why...?"

Yuuri seems to be straining to fully form his question, and Viktor takes pity on him.

He brushes Yuuri's loose hair away from his forehead and runs a hand over it. It is, unsurprisingly, warm. "You're sick, Yuuri. I'm taking you home."

There's a cacophony around the rink now - confused announcers and confused spectators (Viktor Nikiforov is now on the ice - will this disqualify him from the competition? This is not something we've seen here before - it seems that Yuuri Katsuki will not be finishing his routine; this will likely be reflected in his final score), but Viktor tunes it all out in favor of navigating them to the edge of the rink quickly.

It's not quickly enough though, as Yuuri's weakened body seems to have taken all it can. He stumbles despite Viktor's grip on his shoulder and slips back.

Viktor just barely catches him before lifting him up into a bridal carry.

(Yuuri Katsuki has fainted! His fiancé, Viktor Nikiforov, is now carrying him off the ice - that doesn't look like it's easy on Viktor.)

Luckily, the running commentary seems to have given the medical crew a clue as to what was going on. (Which, retrospectively, Viktor realizes, was probably what he should have done in the first place.)

There's a stretcher waiting right at the edge of the ice, and Viktor deposits Yuuri on it before moving back to the bench, becoming a helpless spectator once again.