Blair, It's Fine--No Homo

Blair just stared at him, still ready to fight. No, he wasn't done yet.

"You're just fucking afraid I'll win because you're a fucking pussy when it comes to fighting!" He snarled. "You couldn't even beat up that gay kid at school without your little fucking cult of followers!"

Kyle turned around.

"...Excuse me? Blair, I could beat your fucking face in--I could kill you. Is that what you want? To be a dead faggot?"

He laughed humorlessly.

"Go ahead and try, you fucking pussy."

Kyle kicked Blair in the gut.

Blair sprang at him again, aiming to punch him in the jaw this time. He hoped he at least dislocated it...

Spitting out a tooth, Kyle punched Blair in the face again; this time, it left a mark.

Blair wasn't precisely sure what that meant for Yuri, but he knew what it meant for him; he didn't have to worry about getting hurt anymore.

He grinned as he grabbed Kyle by the shirt and shoved him against the wall.

Kyle kicked him in the crotch again, yanking his hair.

He bit his lip until it bled, just to avoid showing any other sign of the agony he was in.

Blair was getting exhausted from the struggle, though he still punched in the nose again, as hard as he could.

Eventually Kyle got sick of fighting; picking up Blair, he threw him down the stairs and stormed off to his room, slamming the door shut. Though Blair was significantly battered, Kyle looked far worse.

-x-

Blair hadn't talked to Yuri in a week. Kyle hadn't talked to Blair in a week. No one had talked to Blair in a week, except his parents, and all they had done was leave a lengthy voicemail about how 'disappointed' they were in him for beating the everliving fuck out of his brother.

His effing clones didn't even want to talk to him.

And so, Blair ventured to Yuri's house, lonely and depressed.

But when he rang the doorbell, a man with a long, blond beard and jorts answered the door.

"...Who're you? We don't want any magazine subscriptions, if that's why you're here, man." He adjusted his glasses.

"...is Yuri here?" He asked cautiously.

He stared at Blair suspiciously.

"Are you from the government? My son hasn't been home for a week, man--and I don't care if you go tell that to your corporate goons, 'cuz the man can't silence me."

A week. Wasn't that a coincidence.

"Exactly a week?!" He exclaimed. "Tell me, when did he leave?! Where did he go?!"

"No, really, who are you? He didn't go anywhere--he's been in the hospital, man. The wife's with him."

Blair stared at the strange man, then booked it back to his car and headed towards said hospital. He would probably run into his mom, but he didn't care.

A car ride later, and lots of stuff I'm too lazy to explain, Blair found Yuri's hospital room.

There was a woman with long blond hair holding Yuri's hand as he dozed; she looked badly in need of a shower, and wore a t-shirt and sweatpants.

"...Who're you?" she asked in a somewhat annoyingly bell-like voice.

"...Is Yuri okay?" He asked, avoiding the question. "Please, just tell me..."

"He's just sleeping," she said, confused; at the sound of their conversation, Yuri stirred.

"...Blair?" he asked drowsily.

Blair stared, unable to stop staring at Yuri. When he stopped staring, he began to move towards the doorway once again. He really shouldn't even have come. After all, it was all his fault...

Yuri sighed.

"Mom, can you give us a second alone? Blair, get your ass over here."

Shooting Blair and awkward smile, Yuri's mother quietly made her way outside the room, closing the door.

Blair reluctantly sat down in an empty chair next to Yuri's bed, orienting his entire body to face away from him. He almost said something, then thought better of it and said nothing at all.

He groaned.

"Am I that hideous now?"

Blair sank over and hid his head in his hands.

"...I'm so sorry." He said, his voice cracking.