Please Don't Leave Me

(^thanks to the inspiration from this tumblr prompt, this oneshot now exists! Please enjoy! (☆^ー^☆))

Everything happened so fast. The seatbelt had been forgotten, the car had come too fast, and the screams had been too loud. Those screams, those cries for help, hadn't lasted long enough, for the voice that the words belonged to stopped too soon. The person those words belonged to had fallen too quickly into an involuntary coma while he lay helpless in the wreckage. Viktor hadn't been able to help Yuuri as he lay there alone and vulnerable. He had felt his own heart breaking when he realized he could do nothing for his partner.

Fast forward to now. Viktor sits idly in one of the ICU waiting rooms that exists in the building, his thoughts churning and turning about. His leg bounces impatiently, and his eyes go to his watch every five minutes. He had asked for permission to see Yuuri a few hours ago, but the overseeing nurse behind the counter in the room had denied him access after finding out that he was not related by blood nor marriage. He waits now for news about Yuuri's condition from Yuuri's parents and sister (only three were allowed in an ICU room at once), but his hopes are not high. He knows without a doubt that Yuuri's condition is rapidly declining.

His mood has dropped signifcantly since the accident, and his appearance shows it. His eyes are sunken in and slightly red, and a stark crease rests between his brows; his cheeks are hollow, his lips are cracked: These are all evidence of his time spent in this room. His hair, too, has taken a backseat in the list of Viktor's priorities. Its unusual shiny silver color is dull and rough and even dirty. He is a sore thumb sticking out in the room when compared to the others beside him.

"Viktor," speaks someone from the door of the waiting room, causing Viktor's eyes to for once dart to them instead of to the worn watch on his wrist. Yuuri's mother and father stand in the threshold, both of their eyes bloodshot and their noses running. Mrs. Katsuki tries and fails to attempt a smile, her lips instead turning down and her hands coming to her face. Mr. Katsuki holds her close to him and directs both of them toward the two empty seats next to their soon-to-be son-in-law.

"Viktor," speaks Yuuri's mother again, though her voice shakes. She places a hand on Viktor's knee in a motherly attempt to comfort him, but it does nothing to calm the nerves running through his veins. "Viktor, honey. I-I don't know how to say this, but we -- I . . . I don't know how to say this, um . . . ." As Hiroko begins to cry, her husband tries and fails to comfort her, and Viktor suddenly knows why she cries, knows that this will be the worst thing he will ever be told.

"Mr. Katsuki?" Viktor asks, and his eyes dart back and forth between the mentioned's left and right eyes. The instant drop of eye contact and refusal to say anything are both tell-tale signs of the words that hang in the air yet refuse to be mentioned.

Yuuri is going to die.

The pain that settles in the middle of Viktor's chest propels him out of his seat and through the hall. He punches the elevator button one, two, three times in impatience. He feels like he is going to throw up. His world is crashing down around him, and he doesn't know how to make it end.

It takes little time before he finds himself in the hospital chapel, which he finds ironic; he doesn't even believe in a god. The fears and pain he is facing overwhelm him, and the teats come all too quickly. The pain in his chest blossoms throughout his body, and all he can think is no, no, no. He's all alone with only his wracking sobs and breaking heart to keep him company in this small, supposedly holy room. He finds no comfort in the cross, the Star of David, nor the various holy books and deities that decorate the room.

As most humans do in desperation to save their loved ones' lives, Viktor's thoughts begin to jump to fantasies of grandeur. Maybe the situation isn't as bad as it seem; maybe Yuuri actually is getting better. Maybe Viktor tricked himself. But then, why would Hiroko have cried the way she did?