Fan Fiction - Krasobruslení - Drabbles

Sticks and Stones
~by Estriel~

Pozn. autorky: Napsáno v rámci "monthly fic challenge" v komunitě Ice Slash; téma znělo: Injury/illness and/or recovering from an injury/illness. Název je převzat z písničky Like It Or Not od Madonny, kde se zpívá: Sticks and stones will break my bones but your names will never hurt.


"I take a break from quads every summer because my bones are thin. If I train quads all year, my bones might not withstand them throughout my career." ~ Johnny Weir


It had been just another excuse, you thought. Everybody made excuses and everybody teased everybody else about them. You had been teasing him for months now, saying this and letting that slip in front of a running camera; and he'd returned each and every one of your taunts, questioning your hip and making comments about your stubble. It was nothing. Just another jibe.

Thin bones, Johnny? C'mon. You don't have the guts for quads.

You didn't mean it. You knew just as well as Johnny himself that he has guts for pretty much anything. Surely he couldn't have taken you seriously. Or could he?


You were surprised.
Motivated. (Tougher competition!)
You were all that and more when Johnny Weir started landing quads in competition regularly. Beautiful, steady, effortless quadruples that gave his scores a boost that catapulted him right to the top podiums.
You should have known better than to accuse Johnny of lack of guts. It hadn't been a good idea, you concluded, looking up to him once again – a proud, beaming presence adorned with well-deserved gold, the 2008 US National Champion.
Or maybe it had been a good idea, you reconsidered. It made you work harder, pushed you further; you're aware of the fact that the credit for your 4T-3T-2T goes to Johnny rather than Frank.


The first time it happened, nobody even paid attention – it was just another injury, after all; injuries were on daily basis in your sport.
He came back quickly, too – a little weaker, true, but still strong and competitive and combative. God, you loved that. You loved that mad competitiveness, the blaze in his eyes, the air of "war" between the two of you.

When the fractures became a reoccurring issue, you began to wonder.

When Johnny Weir withdrew from the 2010 Olympic Winter Games, you called Tanith and asked for his new number. You expected him to tell you to fuck off. You planned to yell at him and this is the fucking Olympics, Johnny, you can't withdraw from THAT. Nothing went as expected.

They told me that I'll never jump again. His voice was quiet, broken. Broken like his thin bones.


"You didn't know?!" Marina glared at you, incredulous. "How could you not know? I thought you knew him!"

You had nothing to say in response. You'd thought so, too. How could you not have known, indeed?
You'd assumed things were over once and for all. You'd thought he'd moved on, like you did, that he no longer cared.
How were you supposed to know that what you say, what you think of him, still means the world to Johnny? How should you have known that he still loved you?

How could you not have noticed?!

After Marina had run out of curse words in all three of her languages, you went back to your room and spent the night staring at the ceiling. You wished you knew what to do now... Now that you realized that you fucked up his life even more than you'd feared you would if you'd stayed with him. You had thought you were doing the right thing then, breaking it up. Apparently not.


You brought Frank to tears in Vancouver. They weren't tears of joy. You bombed and you didn't even care. Figure skating was not quite the same without Johnny Weir. You miss him.


In the end, he comes back, his fragile bones replaced by firm metal. He doesn't compete, but skates in shows and galas, graceful, strong in all his weakness, perfect. Suddenly, you wish you could come back, too – back to him. Unfortunately, certain fractures metal won't mend.


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