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"Damnit!" Tavir threw the controller at the Playstation. He wasn't paying attention to it anyway. Shurik was over an hour late now, and he was getting worried. Shurik was never late home. Not even once. The birthday dinner was slowly cooling in its pots and dishes, the candles on the cake waited to be lit, and the present lay unopened. All the scene needed was Shurik.

"Where is he?" Tavir gave in and reached for the phone, calling the little shop where Shurik worked. He let it ring out twenty times before he dropped the receiver back in the cradle and reached for his jacket. Maybe he'd look stupid and run into Shurik not a block from here, but it would damn well relieve his nerves. He paused by the door, looking at his crutches, then sighed and snatched them up. If Shurik was further than he thought, he'd need them. Checking his pocket for keys, he stepped out into the cold night, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Shurik! Shit, what the hell happened?" Dimly Shurik felt hands shaking him, and he groaned, trying to stop them. <Don't shake me, it hurts more.>

"Shurik! Talk to me. Are you okay, kid?"

Tavir. Only Tavir would still call him kid. He tried to smile, but his lips seemed stuck together. He pulled them apart. <Ouch.>

"Tav..?" he managed to say, and felt strong fingers gripping his arm.

"Can you get up, Shur? We need to get you home, clean you up.." Tavir sounded frantic, and Shurik opened his eyes, watching the world spin several times before it came into focus. Tavir was leaning over him, worry and anger fighting for control of him. Shurik tried to smile again, and managed it this time.

"I'm okay, Tav." His voice grated as he sat up. The world spun again, and he nearly toppled sideways, but for Tavir's hold on him.

"No, you're not. Do you think you can stand? I can't carry you home." Tavir coaxed him to his feet, where he stood, swaying. Slowly the world righted itself. He started to nod, then stopped; that only made it spin again.

"I think I can walk, Tavir, if you help me." He blinked through eyes that felt puffy and gummed up.

"Here, kid. Have a crutch, we'll share them." Tavir handed him one of the crutches, then wrapped a warm, supporting arm around his shoulder. Somehow they managed to limp all the way home together.

Tavir couldn't help but wince as he helped Shurik inside and sat him down on the sofabed. Shurik was a sorry sight; his mouth a swelling mess of purple bruises, a ragged slash running down his left cheek, and blood all over him. Not only that, he was also hunched over, which no doubt meant more injuries on his body. Tavir dropped his crutches and jacket by the door.

"Strip off your shirt," he instructed Shurik, heading for the bathroom. When he returned with bandages, a washcloth, and a bowl of warm water, Shurik was still fighting to get his shirt over his head.

"Here, Shur," he said with a chuckle, putting down what he was carrying and helping Shurik out of the errant shirt. He winced again as he caught sight of the nasty bruises forming on Shurik's stomach and chest, and the deep furrows bleeding freely on his shoulder. <Who would do something like this? And to a kid like Shurik?>

"Hold still," he said, gently washing the blood from Shurik's face. Shurik winced a few times, and he tried harder to be careful, but his hands kept shaking. Worry? Anger? He was a torrent of emotions, but right now he had to concentrate on Shurik. He cleaned the last of the blood from Shurik's face, and set about bandaging it as best he could. He wondered if it should have stitches.

"Shur? Do you think you should go to a hospital?" he asked softly. Shurik just shook his head, eyes wide, tired, and scared. Tavir sighed and nodded. He finished bandaging the cheek, then focused on Shurik's shoulder. Finally he was done, and he took the things back to the bathroom, grabbing some painkillers while he was in there. When he returned, Shurik was struggling back into his shirt. Without the blood he looked a lot better, but those bruises were really going to ache come morning. He offered the painkillers, and Shurik downed them gratefully.

"Shur, what happened?" he asked, cautiously. Shurik curled up defensively on the sofabed.

"I.. I was walking home. Something hit me from behind.. it hurt," he stated simply.

"Did you see who it was?"

Shurik hesitated, then answered finally. "No. It was too dark, too quick.." His voice trembled, and Tavir placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, kid. You should get some sleep," he reassured. Shurik nodded, curling up even more. Tavir stepped over to the table, scooping up Shurik's birthday present.

"Hey, Shur?" He sat down on the bed again, as Shurik looked up. "You might like this. You said you never had one, so.." He trailed off. Shurik took the gift gingerly, pulling off the paper. Then a sudden smile wreathed his face, almost displacing the fright.

"Thanks, Tavir." He leaned forward, wrapping Tavir in a sudden hug, then curled up into a ball again, arms firmly embracing Tavir's gift -- a teddy bear -- as he quickly fell asleep.

"Don't mention it." Tavir said softly, smiling as he ruffled Shurik's hair gently. Shurik only stirred slightly, curling up tighter.