Yuuri just stared, speechless, not knowing what to do or what to say. He'd...he didn't know him. Everything about the past year, gone. The banquet last year, gone. He could feel the tears swelling in his eyes again, but the wince set Yuuri into motion. "It doesn't matter," he murmured finally, moving from his spot where he'd been straddling Viktor's waist.
He lowered his eyes, his shoulders hunched forward in pain for a moment. He knew if he looked up and met Viktor's gaze again, he wouldn't be able to stop the tears from falling. But Viktor needed him. He pushed himself off the bed, standing beside him protectively. "I could tell you that it wasn't a few hours ago, but a few years ago. How else would I know to call you Vitya? But, I...you're hurt still. There's more important things to worry about."
"Honestly. How do you feel? Besides what I've just told you. Something healed your wound. It was a lot worse than it is now." Yuuri sheepishly revealed his other hand, still covered with blood that was now dried on his skin. "I didn't want to leave you in case you woke up without me here. I...I should get you some water, or something. I wish I had some pain medicine for you, too. Just...don't move, okay? I'll be right back." Yuuri looked over at Domovoi, the tears in his gaze as he met that of the gryffin. "I can't hear you, but I know you've been paying attention. Make sure he stays in bed. With a head injury like this, he needs to stay in one place. I'll be right back with some supplies hopefully."
Yuuri turned his attention to Makkachin for a moment, then patted his thigh to call the dog to him. "Makka, come help me find some things for Vitya." He held his breath, hoping like hell that Makkachin would come to his side just like always. She had often preferred sleeping in Yuuri's bed even when Viktor was in the same place, though Viktor was injured now so that might be different. He was hoping that he could help convince Viktor if Makkachin came along with him, treating him just like Viktor.