"I have to say," Victor whispered in Yuuri's ear, crouching with his bare shoulder pressed against Yuuri's equally naked one, "that I am glad I trust you, because I have no idea how we got here."

Yuuri couldn't help his smirk, as he glanced sideways at Victor. Here was a secret elevated room, tucked behind one of the decorative paintings and once used for hidden security when past royalty entertained hostile guests. It was a room that he had learned about in his history lessons and explored during his days of invading the castle with Mari.

His childhood investigations had also revealed that the painting outlining the wall facing into the throne room was designed to protect from shadows being projected and had tiny openings to allow for unobstructed observation of the room below. Pointing to a hole in the eye of an orange fish he nodded to encourage Victor to look through it. Yuuri settled into place behind his own set of holes, hidden in the tentacles of a giant purple squid.

Below them, men moved through the vast throne room, heavy footed in dark boots and speaking in quick Russian. Their movements were methodical, slowly dragging in golden statutes from all corners of the castle, grunting and cursing with the effort. Victor's joke had been a welcome interruption to Yuuri's angry internal ranting about the desecration of his home's most famous landmark. Silently he slipped his hand over Victor's to give it an appreciative squeeze.

Glancing over his shoulder, Yuuri listened for voices closer than those below them. They had met only a handful of adversaries on their way to their current hiding spot, and all of them had been disposed of quickly. Later, if they made it out of here, Yuuri would probably relive the horror of fighting without options for his opponents other than unconsciousness or death. For now, he was determined to compartmentalize every action they were taking, concentrating only on moving forward and not the violence needed to get there.

"What is all of that?" Victor peered down at the statutes being tossed into a careless pile, brow creasing as his eyes followed the lines of men continuing to drag them in from every side.

"Only a major part of the history of Hasetsu. Being melted down to what looks like gold bars. In an enclosed throne room." Yuuri could feel the anger roll again inside of him, clenching his jaw as his fist balled against his tensed thigh. "Not only are we dealing with violent assholes, but they are also extremely culturally insensitive… and greedy." Any urge to spare the men taking over the castle was extinguishing rapidly from Yuuri's heart.

Opening his mouth to respond, Victor stuttered on his thought as he watched a familiar man stride into the room. Behind him, there were two other men Victor recognized, dragging a third by the armpits. His eyes flickered to Yuuri when he heard Yuuri's sharp intake of breath and immediately Victor realized the captive man was the one Yuuri was looking for. Hesitantly, Victor tilted his head, only half listening to the orders being shouted across the room.

"That's Takeshi," Yuuri nodded in Takeshi's direction, wincing as his friend was tossed onto the ground. His eyesight was blurry from this distance, but Takeshi had a distinct form, built from muscle covered in layers of fluffy fat gifted to him by years of Yuuko's outstanding cooking. Even if he couldn't see the details of Takeshi's face, Yuuri would recognize his friend's shape anywhere.

"And that's Abram," Victor spoke without thinking, eyes going wide as he felt Yuuri shift next to him. Heart stammering in his chest, Victor kept his eyes trained on the men surrounding Takeshi. "The younger two are Yuri and Otabek," Victor trailed a shaky finger over the canvas of the wall, drawing a line between the biggest man in the room and the two youngest, "they are fighters as well. I don't understand how they are mixed up in this."

Neither of the young men looked particularly thrilled to be in the midst of whatever plan was being orchestrated in front of them. In fact, Otabek looked distinctly close to tears while Yuri wore a scowl deeper than Victor had ever seen. Briefly, he wondered if they were also being manipulated in some way, the thought barely blooming in his mind before it was interrupted by Yuuri slapping his shoulder. Throwing a hand in the air, Victor rebuffed Yuuri's questioning look without a word.

"Are you telling me you know these guys?" Yuuri noted Victor's wince, slapping Victor's shoulder again in disbelief. "Why do you know them?"

"Well, Yuri trained with me and Otabek is his best friend…" Victor trailed off, chewing the inside of his cheek trying to decide how to approach his knowledge of the third man. The man who was currently barking orders at everyone else in the room. The man who was seemingly in charge.

"And that guy?" Yuuri asked, one eyebrow arched as he pointed his finger against the canvas slightly to the left of his intended target, aiming the tip of it at another muscled Russian grunting under the weight of a gold fish. He looked away from his peephole to give Victor a pointed look.

"That guy, I don't know at all." Victor evaded Yuuri's question by playing dumb, using Yuuri's obvious miscalculation due to his hindered eyesight. Becoming sheepish when Yuuri scowled at him, Victor reached over to shift Yuuri's pointing hand, peering through the hole to make sure he was still looking at Abram. When Yuuri returned his gaze to the throne room, Victor grimaced as he tried to figure out a way to explain that wouldn't result in Yuuri being upset.

"That guy, I… well… I might have dated him for a couple of weeks." He tried to make the admission sound nonchalant, shrugging his shoulder as he dropped Yuuri's hand. "He traveled a lot, so it amounted to… maybe three dates? But I think I deserve more attention than that, don't you?" Leaning closer to Yuuri, Victor attempted a subject change through blatant flirting.

Unconsciously, Yuuri let his hand slip around Victor's waist, his body automatically moving to close the distance between them. Stopping his forward lean an inch away from Victor's mouth, Yuuri sat backwards, landing with a muted thud on the wood floor. "Wait! You are not avoiding the question by kissing me!"

Suppressing his desire to chuckle at Yuuri's adorably offended look should have earned Victor a trophy in self-restraint. Yuuri's bottom lip poked out slightly, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Victor. The look was not intimidating, and Victor found himself crawling across the floor in pursuit of putting himself back into Yuuri's space. He pouted his own bottom lip when Yuuri stopped him with a hand pressed over Victor's face, smashing his nose slightly as Yuuri rebuffed his advances.

"I can't believe…" Yuuri's sentence trailed off as the swinging door to their current hiding place creaked open. He cursed, realizing that they had been too distracted by each other to keep their volume down.

Men spread into the room, looming over Victor and Yuuri. Without hesitating, Victor kicked his left leg out, striking the nearest man in the knee cap and immediately sliding backwards to spring to his feet. Moving in the opposite direction, Yuuri rolled between his two closest opponents, striking out at their legs as they attempted to reach for him. Spinning, Victor moved himself into the middle of the group, feeling Yuuri crash against his back. Bracing themselves there, they faced their attackers with matching grimaces which were eerily highlighted by the lack of proper lighting. The men took steps toward them, encroaching on their space, and Victor felt Yuuri hum. As if they were dancing, Victor and Yuuri began to move, blocking and attacking with the steady beat of their fight.

Huffs and grunts filled the darkened musty space, echoing off of the walls as the bodies were thrown down, limp from the harsh beatings they were receiving. The single overhead light was swinging in a circle, creating a dancing pattern of light which reflected off the sweat-slicked skin of the two men positioned underneath it. The air had grown unbearably warm and thick with the smell of blood and sweat, rancid with the perspiration of body-crushing exertion produced in their fight of a seemingly endless battle.

"I still can't believe you dated the guy currently raiding the castle." Thrusting his fist upward in a powerful uppercut, Yuuri quickly shifted to block a blow from his left, shoving his second attacker against the wall.

"Dated and dumped," Victor clarified, flipping the man charging toward him onto the ground. The sickening crunch of the man's neck had his stomach flipping, but he didn't have time to dwell on it as the next man rushed toward him.

"You didn't…" Yuuri grunted, throwing his elbow into the nearest bloodied face. "Never mind, I don't want to know." He shook his head, watching with relief as the man's eyes rolled back into his head, slumping to the ground in an unconscious heap.

"Yuuri!" Victor gasped dramatically, throwing a wounded look over his shoulder before whirling back around. Driving his fist into the closest man's face, Victor felt the ache zing through his knuckles as the shock flowed through his body. Even his properly formed hits were beginning to cause pain, signaling to Victor that his body was reaching its tapping out point.

Shaking his hand, Victor spun again to face another resurrected opponent, unwilling to let Yuuri's comments go uncorrected despite the effort of fighting. "What kind of man to do you take me for? I require at least five quality dates before that," Victor dodged a fist swung at his head and spun backwards to re-center himself in the room, "And Abram took me on three. One of them consisted of what I am almost positive was a drug deal," kicking his leg high, Victor demolished the side of his attacker's face. "Especially now." Taking a step backwards, Victor eyed his last opponent, registering Yuuri standing against his own last man.

Backing up, Yuuri felt the damp skin of his back again collide with Victor's naked back, slipping easily against each other as they braced themselves for impact. "How about six hours of fighting and a soak in the world's best hot spring?" Throwing a coy glance over his shoulder, Yuuri found Victor mirroring his smirk. Laughing as Victor wiggled his eyebrows in response, Yuuri returned his focus to the dazed man in front of him. "Ready to kick some more ass?" Cracking his neck, Yuuri eyed the last of his targets between his raised fists.

"Kick theirs, then kiss yours," Victor answered, raising his eyebrow at the men stalking in a circle around them. The bloodied and bruised faces looked like they were begging for death and with his smirk still in place, Victor lifted a single hand beckoning them closer to their imminent demise.

Feeling the heat increase in his cheeks, Yuuri drove his fist into the approaching man's stomach, dropping his elbow hard against the base of the man's neck when he doubled over from the strike. "I should at least shower before you kiss my ass, don't you think?" Laughing, Yuuri pushed against Victor's back, freeing himself from the weight before spinning around to help Victor take care of the last man standing against them.

A fist collided with his stitched side, causing Yuuri to gasp, falling to his knees as the pain flashed red in his brain.

"Big mistake," Victor growled, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt and throwing him through the painted canvas of the wall. It wasn't until the shouting began that Victor realized his mistake.

"We need to move." Grabbing Yuuri under his armpits, Victor urged him to his feet. "Tell me where to go, I'll carry you again." His voice cracked with panic, Yuuri heavily pressing against his side, as Victor tried to move them both forward. He barely suppressed a fearful squeak when Yuuri slumped against his side, eyes going unnervingly unfocused.

"Plisetsky! Altin! Go check it out!"

Victor froze when the sound of Abram's voice carrying through the gaping hole in the canvas wall. Changing tactics, he pulled Yuuri's shaking body closer to his side, turning both of them until their backs were flush to the wooden planks next to the only door.

If he knew anything about the other Yuri, Victor knew the young hothead would come charging into the room looking for a fight. If Yuri and Otabek were being manipulated, now would be the only time that Victor would have a chance to find out, and he didn't want to beat them to a pulp before having an opportunity to do so. Lowering his voice to a whisper, Victor explained his thoughts to Yuuri and received a shallow nod in response.

Every breath felt ragged as it wheezed from Yuuri's chest. His head throbbed in time with his side, his vision increasingly more blurry as the pain began to overtake his senses. Grinding his teeth together, Yuuri tried to mentally talk himself through it, concentrating on pushing the fiery redness away from his vision. He focused on the feeling of Victor's warmth against his side, the blue of Victor's eyes, the sound of Victor's voice and the softness of Victor's skin where Yuuri's hand rested on his shoulder. Using these sensations, he grounded himself and pushed back against the overwhelming throbbing spreading through his body.

Two figures stepped into the room, shoulder to shoulder and barely a foot from where Victor and Yuuri were pressed against the wall. Yuuri knew what Victor needed him to do. Silently letting his arm slink off of Victor's shoulders, he signaled his readiness with a terse nod. Moving in sync, they pounced, easily putting the younger fighters into debilitating chokeholds. Unable to speak through the searing lightning caused by his sudden movements, Yuuri lifted tear-dampened eyes in Victor's direction.

"Yuri! Stop fighting!" Victor hissed, struggling to manhandle a flailing Yuri against the ground. Finally using a firm grip in Yuri's hair, Victor forced him to make eye contact, rolling his eyes as Yuri's eyes went wide. "What the hell is going on?"

A single tear threatened to roll down Yuri's cheek as he shook Victor's other hand from over his mouth. "Your fucking ex-boyfriend kidnapped my grandpa." His voice was filled with angry venom, his eyes narrowed as if Victor was solely to blame for this violation. Bringing an arm up, Yuri thrusted his forearm against Victor's neck, dislodging the hold Victor had on him.

Victor let himself be shoved backwards, relinquishing Yuri and watching as Yuri carefully maneuvered himself into a standing position. Wiping a hand over his face, Yuri approached the tattered hole in the destroyed canvas. "No one here but bodies, boss!" Yuri called, glaring down onto the throne room floor. "We'll keep looking." He waited until Abram acknowledged his statement, stepping back from the window and crouching down again to be level with Victor. "Get off him, pig," Yuri snarled, leveling a kick against Yuuri's thigh and slapping out a hand when Victor smacked him across the back of his head.

Releasing his hold on Otabek, Yuuri glared at Yuri, slumping back against the wall and covering his side with his hand. Blood had begun to trickle from his wound and Yuuri closed his eyes, concentrating on breathing through the pain. He wasn't sure he liked the small angry man who shared his name, but his world was spinning and the fire in his side was too great to continue to contemplate the thought.

Placing a hand on Yuuri's cheek, Victor's brows knitted in concern. He ignored whatever words were spurting from Yuri, instead choosing to run his thumb against Yuuri's flushed cheek. His vision tunneled to the blood running down Yuuri's side and the labored nature of Yuuri's breathing, until Otabek's voice broke through his haze.

"They have my sister." Otabek spoke with quiet reserve but the fear threaded through each of his simple words. Victor couldn't help wincing at the statement, remembering the excitable little girl with the braided dark pigtails and turning his attention to Otabek who refused to look at him. Victor's mind was whirring with dangerous possibilities leaving him speechless.

"It's your fault," Yuri stated, punching Victor in the shoulder. "If you hadn't dated that asshole, he wouldn't know this place existed. You and all your stupid googling of this clown."

Gritting his teeth, Victor leveled Yuri with a murderous look.

Easing one eye open, Yuuri realized that Victor's angry ring mate was thrusting a thumb in his direction. "I'm the clown?" Yuuri asked, flinching as his side stung in protest of his flexing stomach muscles.

"Yeah," Yuri rolled his eyes, shifting his weight with a scowl still aimed in Victor's direction. "Even when this idiot was dating that asshole, he was still spending a stupid amount of time trying to learn everything about you." Yuri cursed when Victor tried to wrestle him back to the ground, biting Victor's hand and pushing him away. "I bet you're the reason Abram knew there was gold here in the first place!" Yuri bit off his angry words, straightening his clothing and glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was reacting to his muffled shouts.

"I have questions," Yuuri raised his free hand, one finger pointing to the ceiling. Despite the growing fog in his mind and the squeeze in his chest with every word, Yuuri desperately wanted to know why Victor was spending such a remarkable amount of time googling him. The blush erupting over Victor's face made Yuuri's curiosity peak even higher.

"Save your questions for later," Yuri snapped, stealing the chance to respond from Victor. "We gotta get out of here. Abram plans to blow the place up when he is done looting it. Seeing as these guys are all slow and stupid, we should still have time to save ourselves." Yuri stood with Otabek following.

"Not without Takeshi," Yuuri groaned as he sat forward, his stomach lurching when his fingers curled into the skin near the end of his wound. "He has a family," Yuuri pointed out, watching the understanding dawn on Otabek's face. "If you take us down there, we can create enough of a distraction that you two can take Takeshi and run. He can get you out of here, and from there you can go after your loved ones."

Victor and Yuri protested the idea simultaneously, as Otabek shook his head as well, his disagreement seemingly aimed in Yuri's direction. "Yuuri, you cannot fight anymore!" Victor shifted to wrap an arm around Yuuri's shoulders, urging Yuuri to lean against his bare chest. "You're bleeding again. Go with them while you can, I can distract them without you."

"Victor, they'll kill you," Yuuri angled his head up to try to look at Victor, the stretch of his muscles causing him to inhale sharply. "I'm not leaving you, end of story."

Victor placed a hand to Yuuri's cheek, rubbing away a swipe of dirt. Brave Yuuri who continued to fight and protect Victor despite Yuuri's injuries being worse. Brilliant Yuuri who had charted their path through the castle, keeping them safe and getting them this far. Caring Yuuri who absolutely refused to leave anyone behind. It was a little overwhelming to fit all of these men into the one currently peering up at him with pleading brown eyes. Victor couldn't resist the desire to lean in for a kiss, nearly connecting before they were yanked apart by Yuri's irate hands.

"For fuck's sake, hasn't your libido gotten us into enough trouble?" Yuri dragged Victor to his feet, leaving Otabek to catch Yuuri's toppling body. "Look, we'll throw you to the wolves and get the big guy out of here. Try not to die before we can send help back for you."

Victor wanted to make a smart comment but Yuri was already wrenching his arms behind his back, making his shoulders pop. Glaring over his shoulder, Victor twitched, colliding his shoulder with Yuri's chin to emphasize that he could still escape the hold and kick the other's ass. Satisfied with Yuri's reactive scowl, Victor turned to watch Otabek help Yuuri to his feet. When Yuuri stumbled, Victor made a conflicted noise, twisting against Yuri's grasp in a desperate attempt to reach for Yuuri.

"I'm fine," Yuuri shoved Otabek's hands off of his waist, catching himself on the wall by one hand and shuddering as he tried to push back to his feet. "Just stay close to me," Yuuri whispered, sucking in a resolute breath. Refusing to look at anyone, Yuuri dropped his hand from his side, offering both of his arms behind his back. Otabek's hands wrapped lightly on his wrists, moving Yuuri forward toward the door with a gentle push.

"I'll never leave your side," Victor promised, growling when Yuri roughly propelled him forward. He stared at the back of Yuuri's head, continuing to let the same words loop in his mind, sounding more like a prayer with every repetition.

The walk from the hidden room, down the leveled staircase and into the open throne room took less time than Victor had hoped. He needed time to wrap his mind around what was happening, to take in the possibility that they were walking into their own demise. His body was fatigued in a way that it never was after fighting his matches or even after his most grueling practices. His mind was overwhelmed with the need to protect Yuuri and simultaneously trying to process how they had gotten to this point. The hours between his entry into the ring and the slow parade into the throne room spread behind him like a lifetime.

"Here," Yuri spat, throwing Victor on the ground in front of Abram's feet. "Your intruders." Victor rotated his wrists, relieving the sting from where Yuri had purposefully twisted the thin skin. He understood Yuri's anger, his grandfather was his only family left and in Yuri's eyes, Victor was the reason his grandfather was now in danger. Flexing his shoulders, Victor tried to school his facial expression into something poised. Inside, he felt everything except confidence.

Yuuri landed next to Victor, his knees sharply cracking against the polished wood. Otabek had only appeared to restrain Yuuri as they had made their way through the narrow hallway, tightening his grip only when they crossed the threshold and forcing Yuuri to his knees. In front of him was the throne room which had been carefully maintained by the castle's curator. Now it was in disarray, the thrones were both knocked on their sides and several of the sliding doors were crooked on their hinges. Golden statues of all sizes laid in haphazard piles, the up-close sight of them made Yuuri clench his jaw and ball his fists tightly.

A groan suppressed behind Yuuri's teeth had Victor flinching, resisting the urge to reach out and gather Yuuri back into his arms. In his periphery, Victor saw Yuri and Otabek move to either side of Takeshi, lifting him from the ground. A shadow fell over Victor and he took a breath before leveling his eyes on the vile man in front of him.

"You?" Abram raised himself to his full height, arms crossing over his chest as he raised a condescending eyebrow in Victor's direction. "A finesse fighter and his scrappy sidekick," kicking dirt in Yuuri's face, Abram scoffed his disbelief, "there's no way these two were taking out my men."

Finesse fighter, Victor growled inside his mind. This had been Abram's exact evaluation following the one and only fight he had seen Victor participate in and the memory of Abram's judgment made his anger curl like an eager-to-strike snake. Forcing his aggression to simmer, Victor concentrated on assessing the room around them, purposely ignoring Abram's attempts to engage him.

Outside of Abram, Yuri and Otabek, there were currently other seven men in the room. A quick mental review of their earlier observations left Victor with an estimate of approximately eight more still moving somewhere within the castle, if none of the others they had already encountered had found a way to recover from their injuries with a will to fight again. In short, they seemed doomed.

"Where do you two think you are going?" Returning his scrutiny to Abram, Victor felt sickness seeping in along with his anger. Abram was addressing Otabek and Yuri who had been quietly maneuvering Takeshi away from the enclosed space of the throne room. Victor didn't have to look to know Yuri was beginning to worry, the scoff huffing out of him when Abram halted their progress from the room spoke volumes.

"If you are going to dispose of those two," Otabek nodded toward Yuuri and Victor, "I would suggest that you decrease the witnesses, specifically those with questionable loyalty." He jostled Takeshi in grip, shaking the heavy man until Takeshi lifted his head to glare at Abram.

"Kick his ass, Yuuri," Takeshi growled, rolling his shoulders and fighting against the two men holding him. "Kill him if you have to."

"Shut him up," Abram ordered, glaring at Yuri and Otabek until they complied by shoving Takeshi face first into the ground. "Stay put, might as well let him watch his friends die. Should help him be more… compliant."

The sound of Abram's sickening chuckle made Yuuri grit his teeth. Whoever this asshole thought he was, Yuuri wanted to show him exactly how little he was worth. Glancing sideways at Victor, Yuuri felt his stomach sink when he registered the ill-concealed guilt on Victor's face.

"Now, you two." Licking his lips, Abram cracked his knuckles, lifting a hand to encourage a few of the lingering thugs to his side. "I can't have you getting in the way. Mess them up, dump their unconscious bodies deep in this tacky horror of a building and blow them up with the rest of it." Abram spit in Victor's direction, his spittle catching Victor on his check as he flinched away.

Yuuri couldn't stand seeing the fear in Victor's eyes. In all of the years they had been fighting, fear had never existed in Victor. They had battled for their own lives throughout all the hours of the current day and still Victor hadn't shown an ounce of alarm. Kneeling on the ground before this brute of a man, who look fuller of steroid-fed muscles than brains, Yuuri could feel his own emotions beginning to boil to the surface. Pushing to his feet, Yuuri pulled Victor up next to him. "Let's end this."

"What?" Victor gawked, turning to stare at the side of Yuuri's face. "We've barely gotten started! Let's at least live through this before you dump me!"

"Not this!" Yuuri waved a hand between himself and Victor. "This!" Wildly, Yuuri waved the same exasperated hand in miscellaneous directions to indicate the entire room.

"Oh I-"

Victor was cut off by Abram's gruff laugh. "Victor, not only aren't you a real fighter, but now you aren't even dating a real man? He's so tiny!"

Anger, hot and flashing bright, filled Victor's vision. Lunging forward, he was a second too late, the violent snap of Yuuri's fist crushing directly into Abram's nose echoing throughout the room. Pride overtook Victor's fury as Abram dropped to his knees, clutching his bloody nose with both hands and demanding in Russian that the other men kill them. Victor's jaw dropped as Yuuri spun into a flawless roundhouse, connecting with the side of Abram's head, leaving his body a limp unconsciousness heap on the floor.

Adrenaline surged through Yuuri as he landed on his feet. Abram could have continued with his insults, he could have called Yuuri every questionable name in Abram's limited vocabulary, but claiming that Victor wasn't a real fighter crossed a line that Yuuri wouldn't leave uncorrected. Victor was the most amazing fighter, not to mention the most incredible man, who Yuuri had ever known. Anyone who dared to question that deserved to taste their own blood. Rolling his shoulders, Yuuri took a step back and pressed a kiss to Victor's cheek, letting himself have the fractioned second of reassurance.

The remaining men closed in on them, attempting to form a circle and repeating the same strategy as the last set of morons who Victor and Yuuri had humiliated. Chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, Yuuri reached for Victor, making the briefest of eye contact before they were hooking their arms together. In one fluid movement, Yuuri's feet left the ground, Victor supporting him as his feet flew in a half circle, colliding with the meat heads in front of him. Then it was Yuuri's turn to fling Victor, he allowed himself to yell in protest of the tearing of the stitches in his side with the effort it took to guide Victor in a similar airborne circle.

By the time Victor's feet hit the ground, Yuri and Otabek had fled with Takeshi and the rest of Abram's men had found their way into the throne room. Blood ran down Yuuri's side; only a portion of his carefully placed stitches still remained following the exertion of his continuous fighting. His chest heaved with effort, fire burning through him as he tried to count the men stalking into the room. His already blurry vision began to waver, and Yuuri realized that tears had begun to cling to his eyelashes. They had come this far, but his body was feeling every strike, every bruise throbbing deep within him.

Yuuri's stamina far exceeded Victor's own and when he saw Yuuri's head drop forward toward his own knees, Victor felt the crushing terror of potential failure. Instead of eight men, fifteen poured into the room. Fatigue washed over Victor, his muscles growing heavy even as he raised his fists again, prepared to fight until his body collapsed from exhaustion.

Yuri and Otabek were gone, and while Victor knew that had been the plan, he regretted not requesting their help in the fight. Around them, men who bore the damage of previous fights with Victor and Yuuri looked ready to seek their enraged revenge, while others remained unmarked and primed to fight unencumbered by tiredness. Swallowing his own dread, Victor forced himself to stand tall, bringing his fists up prepared to defend them both to his last breath.

The sound of doors slamming open echoed through the room making every one of them freeze. Uniformed officers poured into the room, guns raised and orders flying into the air commanding Abram's men to get on the ground. Bodies dropped to their knees, horrified expressions painting every face as they placed their hands on their heads. Zip ties were tightened snuggly on each set of burly wrists and Abram was tossed onto a stretcher, arms and legs secured to the metal bars.

Mari stepped through the nearest door with a smirk in their direction. "Miss me?" She placed a hand on Yuuri's shoulder, expression fading as she processed the jagged opening in Yuuri's side. Starting to speak, her question was interrupted when Victor's body toppled forward, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Together, Yuuri and Mari caught him. Despite his own injuries, Yuuri bent to scoop an arm under Victor's knees, lifting Victor up to brace him against his chest. "Thanks for coming back for us," Yuuri winced when he took his first step forward, grinding his teeth to will himself to keep moving. He owed Mari many things, but now he was positive he also owed her their lives.

"I wasn't going to let you have all the fun," she deadpanned, nodding toward a door and guiding Yuuri toward the opening. She placed a firm hand against his back, supporting him as he carried Victor away from the nightmare they had survived.

"Where's Takeshi?" Yuuri asked, the question wheezing out of him. The feeling of being safe was leaking into his heart and mind, causing him to finally register every ounce of adrenaline rushing from his body. Struggling to remain conscious, he felt Victor's head press further into his shoulder and fought the fog floating into his mind. He missed Mari's answer, his body giving up when he was encouraged to place Victor on a stretcher and then guided onto one of his own.

Head flopping from Yuuri's shoulder, Victor let himself be lowered onto the hard, unstable bed. The world existed behind a translucent curtain, it felt unreal and disconnected from Victor's fading consciousness. His last coherent memory was the feeling of Yuuri gently kissing his forehead and the lingering sound of Yuuri's heartbeat against his ear.

Epilogue

Groans and the sounds of fists striking skin filled the air around him. In front of him, two figures were taunting each other, exchanging glancing blows and pointedly playful insults. Smiling, Yuuri settled into the cushion propped up behind his back, his parents nestled on either side of him.

"That's all you got, Nikiforov?" Mari teased, ducking under Victor's jab and landing a blow of her own to Victor's side. She laughed when he scoffed, shifting her feet backwards and blocking Victor's next strike with very little effort.

"Your sister is a cunning fighter," Victor didn't look at Yuuri as he spoke, knowing that even a quick glance would lead to his immediate defeat. Yuuri as a fighter was stunning and breath-taking in the ring, but Yuuri, relaxed and at home with his family, was the type of beautiful that made Victor forget his own name. Distracted by his own musings, Victor instantly regretted his lapse in concentration when he found himself flat on his back, staring once again at the onsen ceiling.

"Yuuri," Mari chided, hands on her hips, standing above Victor with a lopsided smile. "Your future husband needs to keep his head in the game." Offering her hand, Mari pulled Victor to his feet, laughing as Yuuri choked on his tea and Victor sputtered unintelligently.

"Mari!" Yuuri gagged, wiping the spit tea from his chin and staring at Victor with wide eyes. Although their relationship had advanced rather quickly over their last month at the onsen, Yuuri was positive Victor would balk at Mari's unashamed teasing.

"Yuuri," Victor remarked, regaining his composure with an eyebrow raised, "is it appropriate to kick my future sister-in-law's ass or do I have to keep letting her win?" Taking a step back, Victor grinned at Mari's offended expression.

"Letting me win?" Mari growled, squaring up to Victor. Yuuri squawked from his place on the mat, attempting to stand up and pouting when his mother and father held him in place with the press of their hands on each of his shoulders. "Bring it on, Vicchan." Taking advantage of Victor's obvious shock of her use of the diminutive, Mari dove forward and struck Victor with a powerful blow to the stomach.

"Mom, please don't let Mari kill him." Yuuri sighed, watching Victor recover and spin away from Mari, a laugh rumbling out of Victor as he wrapped an arm around Mari's waist and attempted to take her to the ground.

"Don't murder our future son," Toshiya called, chuckling when Yuuri groaned into his hands. His embarrassment flooded his cheeks, but he was momentarily distracted when Mari looped her leg through Victor's and reversed Victor's hold, landing Victor on his back again.

"Yuuri," Victor called, his free leg flexing as he laced it under Mari and used the leverage to flip their positions. "If I pin your sister, I think you should have to marry me. It's only fair." Grunting, Victor found himself bent in half, Mari pressing him toward the ground with the strength of her chest against his back.

"Deal!" Yuuri yelled, surprising himself and glancing at his parents. Both of them looked thrilled at the prospect and Yuuri's stomach did another round of somersaults.

It had been slightly over a month since Victor and Yuuri had emerged from Hasetsu castle battered and battle-worn. Abram had been taken into custody and absolutely no one had any idea what had happened to him from that point.

Takeshi had spent the better part of the first two weeks in the hospital. Internal bleeding and the stress of being threatened and manipulated by Abram's men for nearly six months had taken a toll on his body. Yuuko and the girls had visited him every day, and the town had showed up at the exit of the hospital to celebrate his release with confetti and encouraging cheers. No one was angry with him over what had happened, instead they rallied around his plans to rebuild the destroyed parts of Hasetsu castle, accepting his determination to right all the wrongdoings with open hearts.

Victor had stayed in the hospital for two days, treated for shock and dehydration. Despite the remarkable number of bruises covering his body, he had suffered no major injuries, causing him to become a legend in the small-town hospital. He had shared a room with Yuuri, and after a generous bribe, had convinced the nurses to push their beds closer together so they could hold hands during their waking hours.

The lacreation in Yuuri's side required extensive cleaning and thirty-two stitches by a skilled surgeon to repair the damage done to Yuuri's skin. He had barely escaped the need for a blood transfusion, but he did receive hefty doses of antibiotics and was entertainingly loopy every time his pain medication was administered. He would have hated the feeling of the medications burning through his skin, except Victor always seemed to be ready with the most ridiculous jokes right as the fuzziness settled into Yuuri's brain. A week after they were released, Victor finally admitted to googling silly jokes on his phone to be ready to make Yuuri laugh whenever he knew it wouldn't hurt Yuuri to do so.

Settling into the onsen to recover had been easier than Yuuri had expected. His parents happily welcomed Victor into their home, arranging a room for them to share which would not require them to traverse any of the onsen's steep staircases. They had celebrated the announcement that Yuuri and Victor were dating, going so far as to embarrass Yuuri by squealing about Yuuri's long-time admiration of Victor. It had taken many, many kisses for Yuuri to finally forgive Victor for being so pleased over this information. (And even more for Victor to forgive Yuuri when Yuuri questioned him about the excessive googling mentioned by Yuri.)

It had been a source of contention when Yuuri was told he couldn't fight for at least three months, and he would have ignored the doctor's orders, except Victor had been present in the room and had heard every word. Yuuri had no desire to be babied, so instead Victor used other tactics to keep him distracted from his restrictions. They had been booted from the hot springs twice for getting a little carried away with one another, and Yuuri had endured knowing glances from all his family members every morning when he and Victor stumbled from their room with bed head and fresh bruises that certainly weren't from fighting.

A smile sneaking over his face, Yuuri gasped when Victor suddenly unfolded from the mat and flipped Mari onto her side. He recognized the move, having lost to it at least twice in his own career. His cheeks flushed as Mari tapped out and Victor leaped to his feet to run in a victory circle. Yuuri's laughter rolled through him when Victor flopped into front of him, angling his head into Yuuri's lap.

"A deal is a deal, my love," Victor grinned, tilting his chin in an obvious request for a kiss. He fluttered his eyelashes when Yuuri hesitated.

"Kiss your fiancé, Yuuri," Mari smiled, arms crossing over her chest. With that simple look, Yuuri realized that it had never been Victor letting Mari win, but merely Mari holding back and eventually tapping out solely to see what Victor would do. He shook his head when Mari winked at him, tipping his own face down to press a quick kiss to Victor's lips.

Later, alone in their room, Victor pulled Yuuri into his lap and asked him to spend the rest of their lives tackling all their adventures together.

Looking into the eyes of the man who had fought against him and with him, Yuuri cupped Victor's cheeks with both of his hands and let his answer form in the feeling of their kiss.