Ross and Tim chatted away in the kitchen, completely oblivious to the torment going through the third man living there. Max liked his alone time. They would respect it, seeing as he's locked himself in his room about an hour ago.

Ross's phone went off, and he pulled it out to check what it was. He felt a smile creep onto his face. "It's Sophie." {Bear with me, I don't actually know what Ross's girlfriend's name is}

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Go on..."

Ross rolled his eyes. "She just wants me to come over later. That's it."

"Did she specify why?"

"No..."

Tim grinned. "Ooooh, you know what that means!"

"Shut up, Tim."

His roommate cracked up, and Ross rolled his eyes again. Suddenly, both of them fell silent when they heard a muffled thud originated from down the hall.

Tim glanced at him. "Did you hear that?"

Ross nodded, frowning. "Sounds like it came from Max's room."

"Wanna check it out?"

"Why not?"

They both crept as silently as they could down the hall. Ross reached Max's bedroom first, so he knocked. "Uh, you okay in there, Max? We heard a noise, so, uh..." There was no response, which made him increasingly worried. Usually Max yelled at them to go away or something. The silence was unnerving.

"Max, we're coming in okay?" Still no answer. Ross tried the handle. Unlocked. He carefully pushed open the door, but completely threw caution to the wind when he saw the horrific scene inside.

Max was unconscious, lying in a pool of blood on the floor. His wrists were a bloody mess, and he could barely see the rise and fall of the lovable red-head's chest.

Tim gasped behind him, and Ross barely had time to turn around and catch him as he passed out. The movement snapped him out of his initial shock, and, with shaking hands, after setting Tim gently on the ground, he pulled out his phone again and dialed 911, still staring at the unmoving body of his best friend.

"Hello, 911, what is your emergency?"

"Uh, my friend, he, uh, oh my God..." The truth suddenly hit him with the force of a speeding train. Max had tried to commit suicide. Tears began to pour from his eyes, creating rivers down his face and splashing against the floor below.

"Sir, I need you to stay calm. What did your friend do?"

"He, uh, tr-tried to c-c-commit-it sui-suicide." Ross swallowed. "He slit his wrists. There's blood everywhere. I...I-I-I don't w-want him to die." At the last second, he recited their address, stuttering the whole time.

"Okay, sir, remain calm. We have a team on the way. I need you to stem the bleeding, though. Do you have anything to press against the wounds?"

"Th-there's, um, towel's i-in the kitchen...Max..."

"Sir, stay with me. I need you to get those towels and hold them against the wounds till the ambulance arrives. Okay?"

"Okay..."

Ross did as he was told, speeding to the kitchen and grabbing two from a drawer before sprinting back to Max's room. He closed his eyes as he entered the room, to avoid he was stepping in to reach Max. Max's blood. Ross nearly followed Tim's example and passed out.

He set the phone on Max's bed, flipping it to speaker, before kneeling down and pressing both towels to Max's wrists. With nothing else to look at, he studied his friend's face.

His skin was deathly pale, almost ghost-like, which made Ross nearly throw up.

Max can't be dead.

He just can't.

The expression on his face was what scared Ross the most. It was so peaceful, like he was finally free of a burden he could no longer bear. A fresh wave of tears began to all as Ross chocked back full sobs.

A minute later, he heard sirens outside and people began flooding into the room. Someone pulled Ross gentle away from Max as they wrapped his wrists in gauze and lifted him onto a stretcher, carrying him out the door. Ross watched as they also picked up Tim, not really focused on anything.

He was frozen with shock. How could Max do such a thing? He was always so animated, so full of life.

Ross picked up his phone. In the rush, it had fallen on the floor, thankfully clear of the bloody puddled. The 911 operator had apparently hung up when they, he couldn't tell in his state, heard the ambulance arrive. Ross needed someone to talk to, desperately. So he called the first person he thought of.

"Hello?"

"Adam!" Ross cried into the phone. "Get here, quick, please, I...I can't be alone...Max, he..."

"Whoa, Ross, slow down! What about Max? Is he okay? Are you okay? You sound like you're crying."

"He tried to commit suicide!" Ross broke down completely as Adam fell dead silent. "I-I called 911, th-they just took him a-away, an-and I j-just need a fr-friend, so please..."

"I'll be right there."

"Stay on the phone...please...please..."

"Sure thing, buddy."

Adam chatted to him mindless while he drove over. Ross was extremely grateful for his friend's presence, even if it wasn't in person yet. He didn't know what he'd do if he was just alone with his thoughts.

"Alright, Ross, I'm here. I'm gonna hang up now, okay?"

"O-o-okay."

The phone beeped, signally Adam had, indeed, hung up. Ross didn't move, just remained kneeling on the floor, the same position he'd been in once he'd pulled off Max.

Max...

"Ross?" He heard Adam's voice ring out in the empty apartment.

"I-in h-here!"

Ross heard footsteps, then a sharp gasp. He looked over, and saw Adam standing in the doorway, staring at the room.

"Ross...I...what happened?"

He sniffed. "I-I don't know! One minute, Max comes in here, saying he needs to be alone, the next I find him here surrounded by his own blood! I don't...I don't understand...why?"

Ross hid his face in his hands as he cried, not caring that they were stained red. He could smell the metallic scent of it, which only made him so sob harder. Why, why, why?!

Suddenly warm, strong arms encircled him. He stopped crying momentarily, but then he was leaning into Adam's embrace, balling into his friend's shirt.

"Max'll be okay, Ross, I promise you. They won't let him die."

Gradually, Ross calmed down, Adam rubbing soothing circles on his back. Eventually, he pulled away, and Adam smiled at him. "Better?" Ross just nodded.

Adam stood, then pulled Ross to his feet. He looked at his friend before asking, "How come you're not a complete mess like I am? I mean, Tim fainted the moment he saw Max. They took him away on the ambulance."

For a moment, Ross saw immense pain flash in Adam's eyes before he replied. "Oh trust me, I'm completely freaking out on the inside. But you need me, so I'll hold it back for a while. I'll support you right now."

He managed a weak smile. "Th-thanks."

Adam clapped his hands together. "Alright then, so, what do we do now?"

Ross shrugged, then something caught his eye. There was a folded up piece of paper on Max's bed. "What's that?"

Adam followed his gaze, then walked over and unfolded the paper. Ross watched as his friend's face contorted to show multiple emotions at once. When he was done, he shook his head side to side violently, glancing at Ross. "Uh, i-it's from Max. Here, you should–"

"No!" Ross's eyes widened. "I-I don't...I know what that is! I'm not sure I'm..."

"Ross, please–"

"N-no!
"It's addressed to you."

"...What?"

Adam handed him the paper. Just as Ross had feared, it was a letter, Max's suicide note, but it was addressed to him, and it was written in Max's familiar, and, at that moment, slightly comforting handwriting.

'Dear Ross...'

Ross's hands began to shake as he read more. His already unstable emotions threatened to burst through at the seams. Max...loved him?

Adam stepped closer. "So...? Are you going to push him away?"

"I...I...He...loves me? But...I don't...I'm not..."

Adam sighed. "You don't feel the same, do you?"

Ross's eyes finally moved from the paper to his friend. "I don't...know, I just..." He collapsed to his knees again, sobs wracking his body. "I'm just so confused, Adam! About everything!"

"Shh, it'll be okay, Ross!" Adam quickly enveloped him in another hug. When Ross had calmed down again, Adam still held him, rocking him gently. "Why don't you take a hot shower, Ross? You can clean yourself off and the water will feel great."

"Okay..."

Adam let go, but Ross didn't move. Exhaustion suddenly rolled over him in waves. His head hung. He just didn't have the strength to move.

Adam cast him a worried glance before helping him up. "Come on, buddy. "I'll help you up." He all but carried Ross to the bathroom. He began to close door, Ross inside, but before he fully did, he said, "If you need anything, just shout. I'll be right here."

"Th-thanks, A-Adam. Y-you're the best."

His friend gave him a smile. "No problem, Ross."

He closed the door, and Ross stared at himself in the mirror. He looked horrible, and it had only been roughly half an hour since he and Tim had found Max. The entire front of his t-shirt and jeans were soaked with red. There were bloody handprints covering his eyes underneath his glasses, some of it washed away due to the tears that seemed to be permanently streaming down his face. When he stripped of his shirt and jeans, the skin underneath was also stained red.

He removed his glasses, staring at his blood-colored hands for a second before setting them on the bathroom counter and turning the shower on, making the water nearly as hot as it would go.

When it had heated up fully, Ross stripped completely and stepped in, steam hissing around him as the near-scalding water cascaded down his body, turning red as it did so. Adam was right; it did feel nice, so he relaxed, sighing, the tension fleeing from his body.

Ross slid down the shower wall, the steamy water making him sleepier and adding to his exhaustion. His shoulders shook as the protective walls he'd unconsciously built came tumbling down, and all his pent up emotions flooded out in the form of a river of tears.

Ross finally succumbed to his tiredness, falling asleep in the shower, his still-falling salty tears mixing with the steady flow of hot water.