Summary: Yuuri and Victor are back in Japan after the Rostelecom cup. With just over a week until the GPF, Yuuri has a lot on his mind as he's training and ends up pushing himself too hard. Luckily Victor is there to help.

Notes:

Takes place between episodes 9 and 10

The idea of Yuuri pushing himself too hard, getting hurt, having a panic attack and Victor helping him happened to bestow itself upon me one fateful day and wouldn't leave my head for a good 2 weeks. I had never written anything before, but decided to give it a shot and this was the turnout. While this is not the first work I've published, this is actually the first fanfiction I've ever written so it's very near and dear to my heart. I've edited it a lot since I first wrote it, but I apologize if it's not the best.

Here comes the trigger warning: if you get triggered by descriptions of panic attacks, then this fic might not be for you.

"Good, Yuuri!" Victor's praise echoed throughout the Ice Castle rink, though he and Yuuri were the only ones there to hear it. The two had gotten up early to practice as usual. Yuuri had gotten back from Russia two days prior following the Rostelecom Cup and there was just over a week left until the Grand Prix Final. He was currently trying to up the success rate of his quad Salchow and had just managed to cleanly land another one, much to Victor's satisfaction. They had been at practice for well over an hour now and the Japanese skater had yet to request a break. Victor had to hand it to him, he sure did have stamina. Immediately after thinking this however, he watched as Yuuri came to a stop and placed his hands on his knees for support as he hunched over, breathing heavily.

"Need a break?" Victor called from outside of the rink, offering a water bottle.

"No, I can keep going," came Yuuri's panting reply. He wiped some sweat from his brow with the back of his hand before forcing himself to stand up straight in an attempt to prove his statement to Victor.

The older man frowned and ran a hand through his platinum hair. He may be a novice coach, but he wasn't an idiot. It was true that Yuuri did have amazing stamina, but even he had his limits. He was definitely stubborn when he wanted to be. Yuuko was right: he really didn't like to lose. While it could be argued that such stubbornness showed dedication, overworking oneself to the point of exhaustion was dangerous, and even moreso with the Grand Prix Final coming up (though Victor figured that was likely the very reason for such hard-headedness).

"Yuuri," he tried again. If he wasn't going to listen, Victor would have to pull that card. So be it. "I'm ordering you as your coach to take a break. You've been practicing non-stop for a while now and the last thing I want is you overworking yourself and getting hurt." Concern was weaved into his stern tone and Yuuri noticed, but he wouldn't back down. He instead attempted to compromise.

"Just let me run through my free skate, and then I'll take a break. Please?" Brown eyes stared at Victor with unwavering determination and Victor's own blue ones were focused as he observed Yuuri. His black hair was a mess, dampened with sweat, and disheveled by the wind as he skated as well as the occasional hand that ran through the strands to push them back from his face. His shirt clung to his skin from perspiration and he worked to return his breathing back to a normal rate. Yuuri felt fatigue present in his aching muscles along with the soreness of each new bruise from the handful of falls he had experienced that practice. However, all of it was overshadowed by resilient motivation.

Victor read the resolve in Yuuri's eyes and felt his own waver. "If he has stamina, he has stamina. If he messes up, he'll learn from it," he reasoned, and with that thought he relented.

"If you really think you're up to it, then fine. Just once. Then you're taking a break."

Yuuri gave a sharp nod and his skates scraped the ice as he moved to take his place in the centre of the rink and Victor walked over to the CD player. He pressed play and the gentle sound of the piano filled the room and Yuuri started his routine. He focused on moving in time with the music, feeling the emotion within him and releasing it and Victor's eyes were glued to the skater. As he went about his routine, Victor silently noted small parts that needed adjustments while at the same time continued to enjoy the show.

"Good so far," Yuuri thought, past the midway point. Despite how hard he had been pushing himself, he was still managing to skillfully execute all of his jumps, steps and spins. The melody resounded throughout the arena and Yuuri lost himself in it as he let his thoughts flow freely. Gliding across the ice, he caught a glimpse of Victor.

"Even after all this time, I still can't believe Victor is my coach," Yuuri thought to himself as he cleanly landed another jump. "The Victor. It's like a dream come true, having my idolーcrush, evenーcoach me."

He smiled. Five time gold medalist at the Grand Prix Final, world record-setting Victor Nikiforov coaching him, Katsuki Yuuri.

Why?

Oh.

Oh, no.

It was as soon as that miniscule question of doubt had wormed its way into his head that things started to take a turn for the worst and Yuuri's thoughts began to spiral as anxiety took hold. Why was Victor here, coaching Yuuri? He wasn't anything special. Sure, he had made it to the Grand Prix Final last year, but look how that ended up: last place, crying in a bathroom stall. He had only made it that far by a sliver of a chance to begin with anyway, just like he did this year. He was a disappointment to Victor and a waste of his time. Time he could have used to choreograph new routines, surprise the audience; not babysit some dime-a-dozen figure skater who cracks under the slightest amount of pressure, who can barely even land a quad Salchow without over-rotating or placing a hand on the iceーboth of which Yuuri had been doing frequently since these thoughts started waging war in his head.

Victor's eyebrows furrowed as he observed Yuuri. His performance had changed and the air felt off, the mood shifting from the story of a beautiful love to a more tense atmosphere. Any other spectator might have brushed it off as simple exhaustion but Victor knew Yuuri better than anyone and knew that while it may have been a factor, it was not the main cause. He wasn't flowing with the music, his movements rushed and jagged while at other times contrastingly mediocre and plain. With every jump, Victor found himself tensing in anticipation and letting out a small breath of relief when he landed safelyーthough far from clean.

The fact that Yuuri was no longer putting his emotions into his skating meant that something was undoubtedly weighing on his mind. Victor had seen it before, and quite often too. The young athlete always had a tendency to overthink things and it clearly showed when he skated resulting in numerous flubbed jumps and many new bruises. Victor was tempted to call out to Yuuri and force him to take a break; it wasn't just his body that needed one now. If he happened to flub a jump in his current state, at the peak of both mental and physical exhaustion and was unable to break his fall… Victor didn't want to think about the consequences. "No," he opposed the thought. "Yuuri's strong. He'll be alright. The program is almost over. I just have to trust in him." Against his own better judgement, he held his tongue.

Amongst the hurricane of anxiety in his mind, Yuuri was able to make out the sound cue signaling his final jump.

The signature move of his coach, Victor Nikiforov: the quad flip.

Given the lead up to it, Victor wasn't surprised with the turnout. He had yet to land it cleanly and this time was no exception. Yuuri took off into the air but not high enough. He was still spinning when his right skate came back to the ice causing pain to flare in his ankle and the young skater to crumple to the ground with a sharp cry.

"Yuuri!"

With little time to properly break his fall, his arm and shoulder ended up taking the brunt of the impact as he landed hard on the ice. A mixture of exhaustion and the forewarnings of a panic attack coursed through his veins as his chest heaved, though he couldn't bring himself to correct his breathing. Hot tears leaked out of eyes clenched shut and streaked down his cheeks as his ankle throbbed. Freezing cold permeated through the thin shirt he wore and into his body, though he made no effort to get up from the ice. He curled in on himself and continued to lay there and struggled to breathe as he felt his chest constrict. An attempt to point his toe resulted in much pain and little success, although the slight movement proved the joint wasn't broken. A sound of relief escaped his battered form. Thank god. He'd still be able to compete. He would be able to compete, right? He'd have to, for Victor. Otherwise he'd be letting him down, and he couldn't let him down. Mind you, he probably would let him down regardless. Even if he did his best, it wouldn't be enough. It wouldn't be enough to fill the hole that Yuuri created when Victor up and left to become his coach. What did Victor even see in him? Why was he here?

The man in question upon witnessing the outcome of the flip had promptly turned off the music and called out to him. Not having put on skates, he quickly made his way across the ice to Yuuri in his shoes. The fall itself hadn't worried him too much, having witnessed his falls on a regular basis. What worried Victor most was he had not responded to his calls nor seemed to be attempting to get up. He forced himself not to panic but braced himself for the worst. When Victor reached Yuuri, he spoke his name again as he kneeled down on the ice and placed a hand on his back and was shocked to feel he was shaking. Suddenly aware of his sobs and irregular breathing, he realized that Yuuri must be having a panic attack. Since the Cup of China and the events that transpired, Victor had skimmed the internet for information on how to help ease the young skater's anxiety, although the two had yet to properly talk about it. It had not been this bad before; he didn't know what to do. He bit his lip as he kept his hand on Yuuri, quickly reading the situation and weighing his options. Yuuri was reaching for his right ankle which was obviously injured from the jump. Victor didn't know the extent of the damage but a small part of him hoped Yuuri's tears and lack of composure came from anxiety rather than the pain. If he ended up not being able to skate at the next competition, saying he would not take it lightly would be an understatement. Victor needed to assess the injury to ensure that wasn't the case, although he would have to get Yuuri off of the ice to do so. He frowned, not wanting to move him until he had calmed down so help he made it worse.

"Yuuri? Yuuri, listen to me. I need to get you off the ice so I can look at your ankle. But first I need you to calm down. Can you take a deep breath for me?" He spoke calmly while rubbing his hand soothingly up and down his back which was still trembling. Victor inhaled deeply then let it out in demonstration hoping Yuuri would follow suit but to no avail; he wasn't even looking at him. The man's frown deepened and he spoke more firmly.

"I need to get you off the ice so I can properly look at your ankle. If you're not going to calm down, I'm going to have to carry you."

The only response he got was more silence interrupted by the occasional hitched sob and Victor saw no other options. As he slid his arms under Yuuri to pick him up, he noticeably tensed at the contact but Victor didn't stop. He stood with Yuuri in his arms and carefully made his way off of the ice. His condition did not seem to worsen much to Victor's relief, though Yuuri was now clutching desperately at Victor's shirt as he buried his face in the fabric. Once on more solid ground, he kept walking until they reached the locker room. It would provide more warmth than the chill of the rinkside benches.

Victor could feel his pulse had accelerate a bit as he fought his own rising panic. He was scared for Yuuri and wasn't very reassured by the sight in his arms. He could hear the continuous, gasping attempts to breathe and felt a wet spot on his chest where Yuuri had hidden his face. Collapsing onto the bench, Victor cursed his inexperience. He was at a total loss for what to do. Anyone else would know how to deal with this, right? As a coachーas Yuuri's coachーhe should know. Would Yakov know how to deal with this kind of situation? He briefly considered calling him, then shook his head. Yuuri needed him now, and desperately. He didn't have the luxury of time at his disposal. Victor was no doubt inexperienced in dealing with this side of Yuuri but now was the time to learn. If he didn't now, what would happen if his anxiety acted up later at a future competition? Steeling himself, Victor let out a breath and considered himself lucky that they were alone before bringing his attention back to the matter at hand.

First and foremost, he needed to get Yuuri's breathing back to normal before he passed out. He wracked his brain for ideas, trying to remember anything he had read online that might help him. Most articles said to inhale deeply through the nose, hold it for a moment, and let it out through the mouth and that should help someone calm down in the case of an attack. The only problem was that Yuuri wasn't even listening to him. He couldn't talk him through the steps, so he dismissed that as an option and tried to come up with any other ways to help him. He suddenly got one. Without thinking twice or saying a word, he reached for Yuuri's hands and uncurled one from his shirt. Victor placed it flat over his heart and held it there then closed his eyes and began to take slow, deep breaths. Nothing happened at first, but he repeated it anyway, hoping. "Breathe, Yuuri," he willed. As Victor continued to breathe, he found that it helped him feel better after his own small panic, and after what felt like forever, Yuuri started to follow suit as his rapid breaths began to even out into more regular ones. His sobs eventually ceased and he lessened the grip on Victor's shirt though still continued to hold it. Anxious thoughts quiet at last, Yuuri lifted his head and opened his eyes to see peircing blue meet his own, now wet and red.

"Yuuri…" Victor whispered his name in relief.

"V-Victor, I-" Yuuri began, about to apologize, but he was cut off as Victor pulled him close.

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay," he said softly. "Don't talk, just breathe."

Taking his advice, Yuuri closed his eyes as he took in another deep breath. In through the nose, hold it, and out. Victor observed him as he did, gratefully noting that he had that knowledge at least.

"Feel better?"

"Mm," Yuuri nodded in affirmation, feeling drained. He rested his head against Victor's chest again and noted with embarrassment the wetness that was there.

"Good," Victor said, giving him a quick squeeze before starting to get up. "Now we can take a look at your ankle."

Yuuri was aware this time as he was lifted up by his coach and also suddenly reminded of the throbbing pain in his ankle causing him to wince. Victor placed him back down on the bench horizontally, sitting himself down on the edge and he brought the skate close to him. Slender fingers worked with quick diligence to unknot the laces as Yuuri gripped the edge of his seat and bit his lip in anticipation. As the skate and sock were removed, he bit down harder and fought unsuccessfully to withhold a cry of pain. Victor pressed his lips together as he assessed the injury, lightly running his fingers over the joint. It had already swollen considerably but there wasn't any other significant damage. Victor got Yuuri to move his foot and wiggle his toes, though painfully so, and his coach sighed in relief.

"It's not broken, just a sprain. I'll go get an ice pack. Will you be okay here for a minute?"

Surprisingly, he felt that he would be. He nodded and hummed in response and Victor left for the lobby. Obviously done with practice for the day, Yuuri began removing his other skate. By the time he had finished and placed it on the ground, Victor returned with the first aid kit. He sat down again and carefully brought both of Yuuri's feet into his lap. They were littered in scars from many years of competitive skating, but there were also many new bruises and patches of red skin that were clearly more recent. Victor applied the ice pack to the right foot with one hand, and began gently massaging Yuuri's other foot with his remaining free hand. The action surprised the young skater causing him to startle, but he then relaxed and relished in the feeling of the pressure on his battered feet. His grip on the bench lessened as he let out a soft moan of contentment and closed his eyes, much to Victor's amusement. The silence dragged on for a while before Victor spoke.

"You tend to flub your jumps when something's on your mind. What's bothering you?"

The black-haired skater opened his eyes at the question. Victor had stated this to him many times before, the first being when he had been training after the Onsen on Ice competition. Back then, Victor wore a lighthearted smile which was mirrored by his tone, delighted at the observation. This time, his features held nothing but caring concern. Yuuri met his gaze for a brief moment before focusing it on the ground instead. He didn't feel like going through the trouble of explaining every thought that went through his head. Victor no doubt knew about Yuuri's anxiety and how bad it could be, but there was still so much he didn't know. Yuuri suddenly realized with a pang of guilt that a large part of that was his own fault. As amazing as Victor was at skating, he wasn't an expert at everything and he definitely didn't excel when it came to comforting people (as Yuuri himself had come to learn first hand). And yet, despite the fact, Victor still continued to try. Yuuri owed it to him to do the same.

"Nothing. Everything. Just anxiety," he finally said.

Victor momentarily turned his attention away from Yuuri's feet and reached into the first aid kit to grab some bandages. "What do you mean?"

"I just overthink everything, and one thought leads to another and then it spirals, and I get this tightness in my chest like I can't breathe, and-…" he blurted quickly then trailed off. "...It's stupid. I'm sorry," he said in a small voice. His eyes, still downcast, were tinted red from crying, as was his nose, causing the rest of his face to appear pale in comparison. Leftover tears still streaked his cheeks, not having the will to wipe them away, and his overall body language screamed exhausted. Victor felt his heart shatter at the sight.

"No, it's not stupid," Victor comforted him. He chose his next words carefully then spoke. "We all have worries and stress, and we all have our own ways of dealing with it. Sometimes it can get to be too much, but that doesn't mean you're weak." Yuuri looked up at him and he continued. "I know you, Yuuri. You're the most kind, caring person I've ever met. The fact that you care so much you stress about it shows just how much you do care. And that's why I love you."

A hand reached out to lovingly caress Yuuri's cheek as he wiped away stray tears. Yuuri blinked at him, surprised at the sudden confession, and Victor offered a warm smile which the Japanese skater returned. Yuuri knew early on that he and Victor did not have a typical student-coach relationship. The two had a much deeper connection that was difficult to put into words. It had been gradually growing stronger as the season went on and reached a climax after Yuuri's free skate in China when Victor had kissed him on the ice (in front of thousands of people, on national television). After Rostelecom when the two had embraced at the airport after their momentaryーalbeit painfulーseparation and made their confessions, he knew then in his heart that it was love. Now Victor had acknowledged it too. Yuuri said nothing in response, though Victor did not need the verbal confirmation; there was not a doubt in his mind that Yuuri felt the same way.

Bringing his hand back, the silver-haired man removed the cold compress from Yuuri's ankle and set it down on the bench and started to wrap the injury. "I could tell you became distracted around the second half of your free skate. What exactly were you worried about?"

"Just the usual: competitions, and not being good enough." Not good enough for you, he wanted to add, but didn't. "And I didn't listen, and I should have," he said, referring to the break Victor had offered earlier. "When I fell, I thought that maybe I wouldn't be able to skate, and I'd be letting you down, and that you were disappointed, or even angry. So I panicked."

Victor looked up at him as he continued to work. "Yuuri, you could never disappoint me. All I want from you is to watch you do what you love, which is skating. I could care less about the scores. I really mean it when I say that the way you skate is like you're creating music with your body. That's why I enjoy watching you so much." Yuuri's face reddened slightly at this, touched. "And don't worry about your ankle. Like I said, just a sprain. It should heal no problem in a couple of days. But until then, no skating." Victor narrowed his eyes at his student. "That's an order from your coach, Yuuri," he added sternly, placing the bandages back into the first aid kit and the ice back on his now-wrapped ankle.

"Hai…"

Victor softened at his crestfallen expression. Yuuri wasn't one to enjoy doing nothing when he could be training and Victor knew this. Like he said earlier though, he'd learn from his mistake.

"So about your panic attacks, what can I do to help when they happen?" the Russian asked, changing the subject. Done dressing the injury, he reached for Yuuri's hands which he gladly took.

"I already told you, at the cup of China: stay by my side and don't leave." Victor smiled, then mentally cringed, remembering that day in the parking lot. "Let's try shattering his heart into pieces." God, he had been an idiot. Victor began to stand, Yuuri's hands still in his own. "You did a good job of that today, just staying with me. Also…" he started as a light blush began to dust his cheeks. "That breathing thing you did helped a lot too. When you were holding me, I could barely even think, which was kind of a relief compared to before. But when I felt your heartbeat and could feel your breathing, it grounded me. I was able to focus on that and it brought me back." He glanced up shyly at Victor.

"Good, I'll keep that in mind," he said, and he would. He gave Yuuri's hand an affectionate squeeze and planted a kiss on the top of his head before heading over to the music player to retrieve the CD and Yuuri's glasses. Yuuri watched him walk away, feeling a warmth in his chest from Victor's words and wondered how he ever got so lucky to have such an amazing human being as his coach. This time, however, he didn't dwell on why he was here and simply embraced the fact that he was. He came for Yuuri, was here for Yuuri and wasn't leaving him anytime soon.

Victor returned with the glasses and bent down to Yuuri, placing them on his face and lightly booping him on the nose with his pointer finger. "Time to get you home," he stated and gathered the rest of their things. "Now, we can't have you walking on your ankle, but nobody else is here to drive us, so…" he pondered for a moment, a hand on his chin, then flashed a heart shaped grin. "Guess I'll have to carry you!"

"What?! No, Victor, it's okay. I'll just-"

He was cut off as his coach suddenly pulled him onto his back (though mindful of his injury) and Yuuri instantly knew that fighting would be pointless, so he instead tightened his grip and rested his head on Victor's shoulder and decided to enjoy the ride. Victor chuckled fondly as he felt Yuuri accept his fate. He was glad to have had the chance to finally talk to Yuuri about his anxiety and to comfort him. Yuuri felt Victor's warmth and was just as glad to have him there. He felt significantly better after opening up to him. Even if he did happen to mess up at the final, even if he had another panic attack, as long as Victor was there with him, Yuuri knew he would be alright.

"And we're off!"

Skating bag in hand and Yuuri on his back, Victor marched out the doors of the Ice Castle and began the long trek home.

Notes:

Whew, done! I spent way too much time editing this. I wanted it to be perfect. Hope it wasn't too out of character. Like I said, my first fanfic ever. I don't have much first hand experience with anxiety and panic attacks, so I just extrapolated what I've seen in the anime and other fanfics etc. Same goes with injuries. Hope it wasn't too cringeworthy. Thanks for bearing with me even if it was. Please favourite and review if you enjoyed, and I'll be back with another story in a week or two! I'm also on AO3 now under the same username (though as one word) and I plan to post more there since I like it better than FF, but I will continue to upload stories here as well.