Leo took Youri back to his place, just like he'd asked. The whole drive, Leo kept glancing over at him, jaw tight.
"You really should go to a hospital," Leo said for the third time. "Tonight. Not tomorrow."
"I'll go tomorrow," Youri replied weakly, staring out the window. "I promise."
Leo didn't believe him—but he didn't push it anymore.
Youri lived on the outskirts of Vegas, close to the underground fighting scene. The building was old, concrete cracked and stained by time, its lights flickering in the hallway. His apartment sat on the fifth floor, the highest level—and there was no elevator.
Without a word, Leo hauled him out of the car and carried him up the stairs, step by step. Youri clenched his teeth through the pain, every movement sending sharp spikes through his ribs. By the time they reached the top, Leo was breathing hard.
Youri's apartment was small but tidy. A one-room space with a bathroom tucked to the side. On the far left, a narrow bed sat beneath a tall window that overlooked the distant city lights. To the right was a worn leather sofa, cracked but sturdy. The kitchen was barely more than a corner—an old fridge, a small stove, and a single counter scarred with burn marks.
Leo laid Youri down on the sofa carefully.
"Seriously," Leo said, straightening up. "Doctor. First thing."
Youri nodded. "Yeah… thanks."
Leo hesitated at the door, then finally left, the lock clicking softly behind him.
The silence settled in immediately.
Youri lay there, staring at the ceiling, the adrenaline finally gone. Pain crept in slowly, deliberately, like it had all the time in the world. His ribs throbbed with every breath. His face felt swollen. His hands trembled faintly.
He tried to sit up—and failed.
A sharp hiss escaped his lips as he slumped back down. He closed his eyes, memories pressing in uninvited. White lights. Cold rooms. Needles. Voices that spoke about him, never to him.
Doctors.
His jaw tightened.
"No," he muttered to himself. "Not tonight."
After a long moment, he forced himself upright, inch by inch, bracing against the sofa until he was sitting. He dragged himself to his feet and shuffled toward the kitchen, one hand pressed hard against his side.
The fridge creaked open. Inside—water, cheap painkillers, and little else.
Youri swallowed two pills dry, barely caring if they worked. He leaned against the counter, breathing through the pain, eyes unfocused.
Then he noticed his reflection in the dark window.
Bruised. Bloodied. Barely standing.
Still alive.
Slowly, a faint, humorless smile tugged at his lips.
"They couldn't break me," he whispered.
Outside, the distant city hummed—sirens, engines, muffled life continuing without him. Youri sank back onto the sofa, exhaustion finally winning.
Morning came slowly.
Pale sunlight filtered through the tall window, cutting across the apartment in thin golden lines. Youri lay sprawled on the sofa, half-awake, half-drowned in pain. Every breath felt heavier than the last. His ribs screamed with even the smallest movement, and his body felt stiff, swollen, and foreign—like it no longer fully belonged to him.
He tried to sit up.
A sharp stab of pain tore through his side, forcing a groan from his throat. Youri clenched his teeth, sweat breaking across his forehead.
Then came a knock.
Hard. Insistent.
"Youri!" Leo's voice echoed through the apartment. "Open up."
Youri exhaled slowly. "Door's… unlocked."
A moment later, Leo stepped inside, taking one look at him and swearing under his breath.
"You look like hell," Leo said, crossing the room. "Please tell me you didn't sleep through this."
"Barely slept at all," Youri muttered.
Leo crouched in front of him, eyes narrowing as he assessed the bruises, the way Youri was holding his side. "You're worse," he said flatly. "We're going. Now."
Youri started to protest, but Leo was already pulling him up.
"Don't," Leo cut in. "No arguments. You promised."
Youri sighed, defeated. "…Fine."
The hospital wasn't far, but the ride felt endless. Every bump in the road sent pain flaring through Youri's chest. He stared out the window, jaw tight, memories crawling back the closer they got.
White walls. Cold lights. The smell of disinfectant.
His hands trembled without him noticing.
When they stepped inside, the smell hit him first.
Youri froze.
Leo noticed instantly. "Hey," he said quietly. "I've got you. Just follow me."
They checked in at the front desk and were told to wait. Youri sat stiffly in a plastic chair, eyes locked on the floor, breathing shallow. Nurses passed by, voices calm, detached. Each one made his chest tighten.
Then a familiar voice spoke.
"…You?"
He looked up.
Mia stood a few steps away, clipboard in hand, white coat neat and clean. Her green eyes widened slightly in recognition.
"You again," she said, more surprised than amused. "I was wondering if you'd actually show up."
She approached slowly and crouched in front of him, lowering her voice. "You okay?"
Youri swallowed hard. "…Not really."
Mia nodded once. "That figures."
She straightened. "I'll take him. Room three."
Leo helped Youri to his feet and guided him down the hallway. The room was clean, bright—too bright. Youri tensed the moment he sat on the examination bed, muscles rigid, eyes darting.
Mia noticed.
"Hey," she said gently, setting the clipboard down. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Youri didn't answer.
She hesitated, then asked softly, "You don't like doctors, do you?"
His fingers curled into the edge of the bed. "…No."
Mia didn't push. She pulled a chair closer and sat instead of standing over him.
"Then we'll do this your way," she said. "I'll explain everything before I touch you. If you want me to stop, I stop. Deal?"
Youri glanced at her, surprised.
"…Deal."
She smiled faintly. "Good."
As she began her examination—slow, careful, always warning him first—Leo watched from the corner of the room, arms crossed.
"Ribs are fractured," Mia said after a moment. "Not shattered, but bad. You're lucky."
Youri let out a quiet breath. "Doesn't feel like it."
She huffed softly. "Luck doesn't usually."
She wrapped his ribs and prescribed painkillers, rest, and strict orders not to fight anytime soon.
When she finished, she looked at him seriously. "If you go back down there like this, you won't walk out again."
Youri met her gaze. "…I hear you."
Outside the room, Leo clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "See? Not so bad."
Youri nodded slowly.
For the first time in a long while, the hospital didn't feel like a place of fear.