There was a bucket beside the couch Blaine was lying on. The bucket was empty, though, because he hadn't managed to eat anything today. It didn't keep his stomach from wanting to bring everything up, so he was heaving periodically, retching into the bucket as if he was trying to vomit out his internal organs. The TV was on low, showing some mindless reality TV show Blaine wasn't really watching. He couldn't concentrate, not even on that, although he desperately wanted to. But his thoughts kept returning to yesterday, to...to his master—not his master anymore, he reminded himself.
He had punched him so hard he had fallen to the ground, hitting his head on the night stand on the way. Blaine didn't even know if he was badly hurt, or dead. That was no way to treat his master, but even if he hadn't done that, he wouldn't want him to be his master anymore. Or anyone, really. He was done with the scene, done with being a sub. He had spent the last months gradually losing himself to the whims of his—of him, and then yesterday, he had—he had...Blaine shifted, groaning in pain. No more. Not ever again.
He was lying on his belly, as his back couldn't take any kind of pressure. He hadn't even dared to look at it after he got home. It must be bad, he knew. Every movement hurt, and sometimes he felt a trickle of blood when he pulled too much at the wound on his shoulder or any of the cane marks on his back that had broken skin.
He should go to the hospital. He had cleaned everything as best as he could, but not being able to see or twist around too much because of the pain, he doubted he'd done a good job. Something would probably be infected by now.
He wouldn't, though. He knew what they'd say at the hospital, what they would ask, what they would want him to do, and he had no desire for any of it. Not to defend or explain himself, not even to blame his mas – Alex White for what he had done. He just wanted to forget. Forget that he had ever seen the inside of a BDSM club, ever met a Dom, ever knelt at someone's feet.
Angrily wiping away a tear, he clenched his teeth and reached for the pain pills on the coffee table, swallowing two. With any luck, they would make him fall asleep.