Leo drove Youri home, just as he had asked, and the whole way there he kept glancing across at him with his jaw tight.
"You really should go to a hospital," he said, for the third time. "Tonight. Not tomorrow."
"I'll go tomorrow," Youri said weakly, staring out of the window. "I promise."
Leo didn't believe him, but he didn't push it any further.
Youri lived on the outskirts of Vegas, not far from the underground fighting scene, in an old building whose concrete was cracked and stained with age and whose hallway lights never stopped flickering. His apartment was on the fifth floor, the very top. There was no elevator, so without a word Leo hauled him out of the car and half carried him up the stairs, one step at a time, while Youri clenched his teeth against the spikes of pain shooting through his ribs. By the time they reached the top, Leo was breathing hard.
The apartment was small but tidy: a single room with a bathroom tucked off to one side, a narrow bed beneath a tall window that looked out over the distant city lights, a worn leather sofa, cracked but sturdy, and a kitchen that was hardly more than a corner: an old fridge, a small stove, one counter scarred with burn marks. Leo laid him carefully on the sofa.
"Seriously," he said, straightening up. "Doctor. First thing."
Youri nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."
Leo hesitated at the door, then left. The lock clicked softly shut behind him.
The silence settled in at once. Youri lay staring at the ceiling as the last of the adrenaline drained away. The pain crept in slowly and deliberately, as if it had all the time in the world. His ribs throbbed with every breath, his face felt swollen, and his hands were trembling faintly. He tried to sit up and failed. A sharp hiss escaped him as he slumped back down. He closed his eyes, and the memories pressed in uninvited — white lights, cold rooms, needles, voices that talked about him but never to him.
Doctors. His jaw tightened. "No," he muttered to himself. "Not tonight."
After a long while, he forced himself upright inch by inch, bracing against the sofa, then dragged himself to his feet and shuffled into the kitchen with one hand pressed hard against his side. The fridge creaked open on water, cheap painkillers, and very little else. He swallowed two of the pills dry, hardly caring whether they would work, and leaned against the counter breathing through the pain — until he caught sight of his reflection in the dark window. Bruised. Bloodied. Barely standing. Still alive.
A faint, humorless smile tugged at his lips. "They couldn't break me," he whispered.
Outside, the city hummed on without him, all sirens, engines and muffled life. He sank back down onto the sofa, and at last exhaustion won.
Morning came slowly, the pale sunlight slipping through the tall window in thin golden lines. Youri lay sprawled on the sofa, half awake and half drowned in pain. Every breath was heavier than the last, his ribs screamed at the smallest movement, and his whole body felt stiff, swollen and foreign, as though it no longer quite belonged to him. He tried to sit up. A stab of pain tore through his side and forced a groan out of him, and sweat broke across his forehead.
Then came a knock, hard and insistent. "Youri!" Leo called. "Open up."
Youri let out a slow breath. "Door's… unlocked."
Leo came in, took one look at him and swore under his breath. "You look like hell. Please tell me you didn't just sleep through this."
"Barely slept at all," Youri muttered.
Leo crouched in front of him, his eyes narrowing as he took in the bruises and 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. No arguments. You promised."
Youri sighed. "…Fine."
The hospital wasn't far, but the ride felt endless, every bump in the road sending pain flaring through his chest while he stared out of the window with his jaw clenched and the memories crawled back closer the nearer they got. White walls. Cold lights. The smell of disinfectant. His hands began to tremble without his noticing. When they walked through the doors and that smell hit him, he froze.
Leo saw it at once. "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 rigidly in a plastic chair with his eyes on the floor and his breathing shallow while nurses passed by, their voices calm and detached, every one of them making his chest a little tighter.
Then a familiar voice said, "…You?"
He looked up. Mia was standing a few steps away with a clipboard in her hand, her white coat neat and clean, her green eyes widening slightly in recognition. "You again," she said, more surprised than amused. "I was wondering if you'd actually turn up." She came closer 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."
The room was clean and bright — too bright — and the moment Youri sat on the examination bed, every muscle in his body went rigid and his eyes began to dart around the walls. Mia noticed.
"Hey," she said gently, setting down her clipboard. "I'm not going to hurt you."
He didn't answer.
She hesitated. Then, softly, "You don't like doctors, do you?"
His fingers curled around the edge of the bed. "…No."
Mia didn't push. Instead of standing over him, she pulled a chair closer and sat down. "Then we'll do this your way," she said. "I'll tell you everything before I touch you. If you want me to stop, I stop. Deal?"
Youri glanced at her, surprised. "…Deal."
She smiled faintly. "Good."
She began her examination slowly and carefully, always warning him first, while Leo watched from the corner with his arms crossed. "Ribs are fractured," she said after a while. "Not shattered, but bad. You're lucky."
Youri let out a quiet breath. "Doesn't feel like it."
She huffed softly. "Luck usually doesn't." She strapped his ribs and gave him painkillers, with strict orders to rest and not to fight again any time soon. When she was finished, she looked at him seriously. "If you go back down there like this, you won't walk out again."
Youri met her eyes. "…I hear you."
Out in the corridor, Leo clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "See? Not so bad."
Youri nodded slowly. And for the first time in a very long while, a hospital had not felt like a place of fear.