When Brendon woke up, he was farther up on the bed than he had been when he fell asleep. Ryan was laying behind him with his right arm under Brendon's neck, his elbow bent so he could press his hand against Brendon's chest. His left arm was draped over Brendon's body and his hand rested on the bed, in front of Brendon's face. Brendon's left hand was in the exact same place; Ryan's hand on top of his with his fingers seeming to bury themselves between Brendon's in order to hide underneath Brendon's hand completely. Bright daylight poured through the window and the bedroom door was closed, leaving the two of them alone. There were several blankets tossed together on the floor across the room, but Spencer and Ellen were gone and they had left Spencer's computer plugged in and pushed against the wall.

Brendon closed his eyes in order to relax and lean back into Ryan's embrace, although he was already pushed against Ryan's body. He was looking at their hands when his eyes fell open again, and Brendon slowly turned his wrist just enough to expose his palm and Ryan's fingertips that rested against it. The skin around most of his nails could have easily been described as shredded; the only physical manifestation of every bit of pain that Ryan had been feeling. The inside edge of his thumb, right along the nail, had fared the worst. Ryan had been constantly assaulting it with his index finger, which was evident with the bit of dried blood that lined the edge of the fingernail. As with all of his fingers, a large piece of skin stood up from the surface, slightly stiff and very much torn away from his thumb, but still very attached at the bottom. It provided a painful spot for Ryan to glide his finger back and forth over it, moving the skin quickly, allowing him to feel a sting as the dead skin pulled against the live skin that it was still attached to. In his sleep, though, Ryan couldn't let his emotions drain from his fingers, and Brendon brought Ryan's hand to his mouth. The torn skin around his fingers was proof that, from the very first second, Ryan himself was torn apart with the same emotion as anyone else that had been suddenly thrown into this situation. It was also proof that Ryan knew what he had to do to make himself hold on, even if it meant that he could sit for an hour with his eyes locked on his fingers as he meticulously picked them down to nothing. Through this one sign of weakness, Brendon continued to see the strongest person he had ever met.

Brendon slowly spread his fingers out and he allowed his lips to part, placing a quiet, gentle kiss on each of Ryan's mangled fingers. He tucked their connected hands underneath his chin and he pressed his own arm against his body, bringing Ryan's arm in closer as well, and he closed his eyes to enjoy the first hug of the day. Ryan's arms still felt safe around Brendon's body because they belonged to someone who was still so capable of caring about someone else, even though he himself had every reason in the world to fall apart.

Brendon silently watched four minutes pass on the clock, each minute proving that he was becoming more and more alert. After two minutes, he brought their hands out from under his chin and he let his dry lips graze Ryan's fingers again. Several small kisses and three minutes later, Brendon decided he wanted to watch Ryan sleep. He used his shoulders to do most of the moving of his body, to control the motion and avoid shaking the bed too much. There was no blanket to mess with, but it wasn't cold in Ryan's room, so Brendon didn't bother searching for it. His gentle turning left Ryan's arm unmoved, still draped across Brendon's upper body. Brendon's hand felt cold and it was sensitive to touch after being shielded by Ryan's hand all night.

The first thing that Brendon felt was warmth when his eyes met Ryan's. His heart jumped and he didn't quite feel his own smile when he saw Ryan's face and tried to speak. "How long you been awake?" Maybe not a proper sentence, but he knew Ryan would understand.

Ryan shrugged, using his motion as an excuse to comfortably lay his left hand over the back of Brendon's neck. "Not long, I don't know."

"Oh." Brendon didn't want to ask how much Ryan had felt of what he was doing moments before. He started to try to rationalize his actions, but unlike everything he and Ryan had done for each other, there was only one real reason for Brendon's lips to be against Ryan's fingers. If Brendon didn't want to say anything about it, he knew that Ryan wanted to admit it even less. Ryan's arm was still around him, and Brendon told himself that everything was fine.

"You sleep well?"

"Yeah."

"You remember me pulling you up here?"

"I don't think so." Brendon closed his eyes and concentrated on the hand that was touching his neck.

"I finished writing and you were still curled up on the bottom half of the bed."

"What were you writing, anyway?"

"Don't worry about it. You'll see later, it's nothing bad. Not about you or anything."

"Oh, it's... not?"

Ryan sensed some slight hurt in Brendon's voice. "Well I'm not saying I couldn't fill that entire thing up just by talking about you. That's just not what it is. I don't really wanna talk about it, though, if you're okay with that... not right now, anyway."

"But it's okay, though? Like... you're okay?"

"I'm alright. It's nothing bad, I promise."

Brendon nodded and tilted his head down, and he pressed his forehead into Ryan's chest. He could feel Ryan's chin against the top of his head.

Ryan laughed quietly. "You did this last night."

"I did?"

"When I pulled you up here. You woke up a little bit and you were clinging to me so much I didn't think I was gonna be able to move."

Brendon felt his face flush completely and he didn't know if he should be angry with himself or not. "I'm sorry."

"Why would you be sorry?"

"I just am."

"I liked it, though."

Brendon bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling to the point of laughter. "Did I say anything then?"

"Not really. You made some noises, but nothing I could understand."

"Oh."

"You just wouldn't let go of me."

"I guess I shouldn't say I'm sorry."

"It felt like you needed me."

Brendon pressed his head down sideways, into Ryan's right arm, which rested underneath it. "I do."

"I just kept you close to me and I talked to you until I was too tired to make sense."

"What did you say to me?"

Ryan laughed again. "If you didn't hear me, it's a good thing."

Brendon lifted his head from Ryan's chest in order to make eye contact. "You can't tell me?"

Ryan closed his eyes. "I was just too honest and I was tired so I couldn't even say it now."

"All good stuff, though?"

"Yeah. I just talked. It felt like you were listening even though you were snoring."

"Oh God, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're really quiet when you snore."

"But still, I didn't even know I did."

"It's alright, I like hearing it."

"You do?"

"Yeah." Ryan started to slowly move his fingers around on the back of Brendon's neck. "I just know you're asleep, then. Nothing bothers you when you're sleeping and it was nice to know that you weren't thinking about anything."

Brendon put his head back under Ryan's chin. "Did you get to sleep okay?"

"Yeah, I was right about it being better while you're here. I just kinda passed out while I was talking to you."

Brendon was starting to think that he had some kind of idea of what Ryan had said to him, but it was a little too uncomfortable to think about. "I wish you were still sleeping."

"Why?" Ryan attempted to look offended through his smile, but he only made Brendon laugh. "Want me to be quiet so you can go back to sleep?"

"No, no... I just wish you were asleep still because I know you need it." Brendon lifted his head again so he could see Ryan's face.

"I guess."

"I guess it's why you like my stupid snoring."

"It's not stupid. I like knowing that you're breathing."

Brendon smiled, closing his eyes briefly. "Just... when I woke up this morning, I knew you were happy, you know? Like, you just... were here, and..."

"Hey." Ryan moved his hand from Brendon's neck to the side of Brendon's face. "Just say what you wanna say, you don't need to get everything mixed up."

Brendon lifted his hand and took Ryan's left hand away from his face, holding it against his chest and feeling tangled in Ryan's arms with Ryan's right arm still under his head. He opened his mouth and exhaled. "It's just like you said, I knew you weren't thinking while you were asleep, and... I just know you can feel things now that you're awake, I guess."

"You wanna know what I feel right now?"

"Of course."

"I feel my friend next to me and I feel his hand and I feel like I'd be perfectly happy if we never got out of bed."

"Are you happy, though?"

"Bren, I'm happy with this, with how we are and the fact that... I don't know, I'm just happy with this."

"But you, Ryan. Are you happy?"

"Everything that's ever happened, I've always gotten over it."

"But there's some things nobody should have to get over... some things you shouldn't even have to see, let alone have the need to just get over it."

"Bren?"

"Yeah?"

"You're really sweet."

Brendon smiled with his eyes closed and he pressed his mouth against Ryan's hand.

"I don't know if I'm happy, I'll be honest. But I'm okay and I'm as happy as I can be, really. I guess I've just learned to give things time."

"I've tried to learn that from you."

"What do you mean?"

"You've told me that things won't be like this forever. I've been remembering that, that's all."

"I can tell."

"You can?"

"You seem better. I'm proud of you for that, really. I know it's hard." Ryan closed his eyes and pulled Brendon closer against his chest to the point where it almost seemed desperate. "I think I might be starting to have a hard time taking that advice from myself."

"Ry..."

"It's like nothing can get better, just as soon as everything's evened out, it's gotta fuck up again."

"Ryan..." Brendon moved his head around, nuzzling it against Ryan's body. He didn't know what else to do, but judging by Ryan's arms around him, he was doing plenty by simply being there.

"Just one thing after another, and I really shouldn't have let myself forget that. I was so used to it."

"I'm sorry this is happening." Brendon felt slightly defeated, but it was apparent to him that nothing could keep Ryan from feeling this way, given the situation. It was also apparent that nothing could keep Brendon from continuing to want to fix everything for Ryan just as much as Ryan wanted to fix everything for him.

"How are you coming on that disappearing thing?"

"Huh?"

"We're still here, so I know you're not too far along. But you told me... you said you'd take me with you if you figure out how to disappear. I'm still up for that, you know."

Brendon didn't expect to have his heartfelt words actually remembered. "You remember me saying that?"

Ryan opened his eyes at the sound of Spencer and Ellen quietly entering the room, and he spoke softly into Brendon's ear. "I remember every single thing you say to me."

Brendon was instantly bitter over the fact that he didn't have time to respond.

"You guys awake, finally?" Ellen spoke quietly as she sat down toward the foot of the bed, and she looked at Ryan while laying her hand on Brendon's leg.

Ryan didn't bother moving from his awkward position with Brendon. It was the only thing that was going to keep him calm, and Ryan didn't like feeling so close to another breaking point again. "Yeah, where were you guys?"

"Moms are out there, we were just talking."

"Oh."

"A bunch of neighbors have brought food over for you and your mom. I guess that's what people do when... yeah, you guys have enough to eat for a year, I would guess."

Ryan nodded once and kept his eyes closed, his mouth and nose pressed against Brendon's head.

"It's alright, Hun." Ellen leaned forward slightly and worked her hand under the hand that Ryan had pressed against Brendon's back. Ryan kept his arm in place and he didn't unlatch his other hand from Brendon's, but he accepted the gesture and gave her hand a firm, continuous squeeze, not wanting to let go.

Ellen gave Spencer a silent command and he gently sat down on the edge of the bed, farther up, right behind Brendon's head. "Just me, Brendon." His thigh pressed against the back of Brendon's head due to the lack of available space on the bed. Brendon nodded to give Spencer permission to press his body against him as much as he needed to in order to sit on the bed, because Brendon couldn't deny the fact that he liked having his friends with him, even if it was Ryan that he and everyone else was worried about.

Ryan knew he had no reason to be ashamed, but he couldn't help it. He was determined to not cry again, thinking that maybe, if he could hold himself together, he wouldn't lose the strength that it had taken him so long to gain. He managed to be quiet, relying on the fact that he had three people with him that weren't about to let go of him. Ryan felt sick, in an odd way. He kept his face against Brendon's head to hide the fact that he had not yet perfected Brendon's art of appearing calm. Until they got up, Ellen never loosened her hand. Spencer sat there the entire time, leaning sideways with Brendon's head awkwardly against his legs, with his elbow resting on the bed and his hand lost in his friend's hair. It was something that Spencer had hoped he wouldn't need to do for Ryan again. Not that he minded, but it had never been a good situation when these kinds of things were required, and this time was no exception.

Perhaps the most meaningful thing at that moment was the boy in Ryan's arms. Brendon laid still, breathing slowly, and he had slipped his arm underneath Ryan's body. His right hand was still locked tightly together with Ryan's left, and his other arm was under Ryan and it wrapped around his back. Brendon rested his hand on Ryan's shoulder, squeezing hard, occasionally rubbing small circles with his fingers. At the same time Brendon was squeezing Ryan's shoulder, Ryan was busy gripping Brendon's hand in order to hold on. The force they both applied to each other almost seemed to be there in order to strengthen both of them in some way, both of them silently screaming for their own reasons, but both of them feeling strangely safe for reasons that would be obvious if they were to just open their eyes.

Spencer and Ellen had found semi-comfortable positions to lay down in without breaking contact with their friends. Ellen continued to hold Ryan's hand while her head found a place to lay on Brendon's leg, and Spencer was able to slip into a little bit of a daze with his head tilted back against the wall. He knew when Ryan and Brendon moved slightly, but he chose to leave them alone without letting his hand leave some part of Ryan's head.

"Ryan?" Brendon's head was finally not buried in Ryan's chest, and the air in the room cooled his skin that had been made damp by body heat and breath.

Ryan had been forced to lift his face when Brendon's head moved. He stared at Brendon and he didn't talk, instead choosing to hope that Brendon had more to say.

"Ryan, I'm here." Brendon's voice was so quiet that it almost seemed like he was mouthing the words, but Ryan could hear the breath escaping from between Brendon's lips.

Ryan blinked, keeping his eyes closed for a couple seconds, and he opened them again to meet Brendon's. He licked his lips and he stayed quiet, completely unable to say anything that his hand was not already screaming as his sore fingers dug into Brendon's hand. It was his way of begging Brendon to not leave him, even though he knew Brendon was going to stay. Brendon didn't stop squeezing back.

Looking into Ryan's eyes, Brendon saw something in him that he had never seen before. It was what had always been described to him as Ellen would draw closer to tears, or while Spencer would press his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose and sigh heavily. It was what had always made Brendon wish he could be just normal enough to have real friendships so maybe, somehow, he could help Ryan. It was also what tore Brendon apart every time he heard about it, knowing all too well what it felt like, and knowing that he could never help this boy that he had never met.

Everything that was happening at this very moment completely went against everything that Brendon had ever believed about what would happen to him. Here was Ryan, held safely in his arms, pulling himself up with Brendon's hand. It was the first hand that Brendon had ever held. He stared at Ryan's face and he saw everything, everything that he had been told about and everything that seemed to be pushed far into the past by the time he met Ryan. Written all over Ryan's face was the loudest, most forceful plea Brendon had ever seen. Ryan's eyes seemed to burn and his mouth was so full of so many words that Ryan couldn't even begin to put them in any order, so he kept it closed. Brendon saw him closing everything, closing himself off, and he wanted to keep Ryan from dissolving completely. After all, Brendon felt like he had to return the favor.

Brendon had never been through what was happening to Ryan, but he could read Ryan's face and he recognized everything that he had come to hate in himself. Oddly, though, he didn't hate it in Ryan. He hated that it was in Ryan, but he didn't hold it against Ryan like he held it against himself. Ryan was unable to speak, and hardly able to think even though Brendon couldn't tell, but Brendon could still identify many things. Ryan was scared; so scared that Brendon's hand throbbed from the force of Ryan trying to hold on. Brendon's words hung thick in the air—I'm here—and he knew that Ryan was aware of how much he meant it. After what Ryan had said, he knew Ryan would never forget them. Brendon didn't like how he could identify the pain in Ryan's eyes, even if it was brought on by something he was not familiar with. Regardless of what caused it, it still felt the same.

It was then that Brendon realized that Ryan was all but gone. It felt like the connection between their eyes was the only thing that kept Ryan there, and every time Brendon had to blink, he was afraid that opening his eyes would mean he would realize that Ryan had gone away. Brendon wasn't sure if he had it in him, but he knew he had to find it in himself regardless—he had to hold on to Ryan. He had no choice but to use his weak self to hold up something that had suddenly become so much weaker. He didn't like how quickly this strong boy had been able to collapse, because it made him fear for himself with the fact that he was so much weaker than Ryan in the first place.

Their eyes had to separate. They got up from the bed, and they had to leave. Brendon knew he had to do something that Ryan wanted him to do, regardless of how much he would have rather ran away from it completely. Brendon didn't want to leave Ryan's house, but they got into the car, because it had to be done. Ryan needed him to do this. At the exact moment that their eyes broke away from each other, back when they were still in bed, reality finally hit Brendon. That eye contact really was all that had kept Ryan going, and once it was over, Ryan was a shell. He couldn't stop looking at Brendon, begging him with his eyes, and Brendon couldn't stop wishing he had the ability to take everything away. To Spencer and Ellen, Ryan was simply quiet, something that was to be expected. Brendon, on the other hand, was the one person that could see how completely despondent and scared Ryan really was. Through everything, Ryan still looked strong, or perhaps 'determined' was the word Brendon wanted to use to describe him. Determined to keep going. Brendon felt inspired by this, but it was still painfully obvious to him that this recently broken, shattered boy was officially his to put back together. Ryan could keep going, but he wasn't going to be able to do it alone.

The car turned onto Brendon's street, and Brendon turned his wrist so the back of Ryan's hand was facing upward while their hands were laced together. Ryan looked down to their hands, expressionless, startled by the sudden change. Brendon didn't allow himself to think before doing the first thing that came to mind. He extended the index finger of his unoccupied hand and he touched it to Ryan's skin, slowly beginning to move it. Ryan showed the first emotion he had shown since before leaving his house--a small smile--as he watched Brendon's finger repeatedly trace the shape of a perfect heart on the back of his hand. He knew Brendon meant it.

Brendon stuck his key into the door while Ryan squeezed the life out of his arm by way of fingers around his elbow joint. Brendon didn't mind, and Ryan didn't plan on letting go. Brendon's chest and mind raced because he knew he wasn't ready. He unlocked the door and just hoped that he could keep himself together.

"Ryan," Ellen desperately grabbed at her friend, latching on to his forearm. "Just stay back with me, please... let Spence and Bren handle it and we can just relax."

Ryan continuously shook his head in a slow, defiant motion. Ryan was never really this stubborn and Ellen was left with no more ideas. Ryan was not going to leave Brendon's side. They all entered the house and Spencer stayed behind to close the door, quickly walking to catch up with Ryan and Brendon.

"Mom, where are you?" Brendon walked toward the kitchen but Grace walked out from the hallway, flinching slightly when she noticed three extra people. "I didn't expect you home for quite a while yet. I didn't know you were bringing friends, Brendon."

"Well, they're here."

"I noticed. Now why are you home so early?"

"We need to talk."

"Yes we do, but I don't think it's appropriate to discuss this while your friends are here. I'm sure Ryan had enough of that the other night." Grace politely smiled at Ryan as she turned away to begin disregarding her son.

"We're not talking about that."

"Yes we are, as soon as your friends go home."

Brendon pressed his teeth together. "No, Mom."

Grace stopped and paused before turning around. "Excuse me? I don't think I like this new tone you have seem—"

Brendon lifted his hand to his head and pulled forcefully at a fistful of hair. "Mom if you would just fucking listen to me you would—" Brendon suddenly found himself unable to talk as Ryan had let go of his arm and spun around, pressing their chests together in one quick movement as he wrapped his arms around Brendon's neck and buried his face in Brendon's shoulder. Brendon lifted one hand to Ryan's back and he placed the other one on Ryan's neck before lowering his voice and speaking softly to his mother. "Mom, just please listen to me."

Brendon watched her prepare to speak, and he could see anger at the surface and he knew that regardless of the fact that he had just tried to correct himself, she was still ready to explode. Spencer stepped forward before she could speak, presumably noting the same facial expression in her that Brendon saw, and he tried to fix the situation.

"Mrs. Urie, do you watch the news?" Spencer walked forward and toward her, causing her to back up as he nodded toward the kitchen.

Grace was torn between anger toward her son and confusion for what Spencer, someone she had only met once or twice, was trying to do. "Yes, I watch the news, but what does that have to do—"

"I'm sorry to interrupt and I'm sorry if this isn't my place, but did you hear about that accident on Friday?"

"The one off of Route 202?"

"Yes."

"I heard about that, it was all over television."

"That was Ryan's dad."

Grace's head twitched as she searched Spencer's face for some sort of explanation, but she found nothing. She looked over to her son, who was still engulfed by the boy who had an odd talent for being able to calm Brendon down, and she now had a reason for Brendon's sudden anxiety and Ryan's more than awkward embrace. She looked at Ellen, who was standing against the wall, her stance suggesting that she had given up on finding a way to help the situation.

"Oh my God... is—"

"Brendon came to ask if he could stay with Ryan. The funeral's tomorrow."

Grace closed her eyes and licked her lips for a moment before looking at Spencer and making sure she had Ellen's attention. "I'd like you two to stay down here, if you would. I'd like you to help me let my husband know what's going on?"

Spencer nodded, not sure if she had meant to ask a question, even though it sounded that way.

"Brendon, you and Ryan go on upstairs. Someone will be up in a little bit."

Brendon didn't acknowledge his mother in any way other than turning to head upstairs with his arm around Ryan's back. He was too busy mentally beating himself over his total lack of self control and his apparent inability to look past his own barriers and do something that Ryan needed him to do. In his head, Brendon was using every ounce of energy to tell himself to keep his mouth closed, even though he wanted to scream and throw his head into the wall to try to get some point across. Everything was made even worse by the fact that he didn't even know if he had a point to his anger. He settled on pressing his arm into the wall instead, appearing to accidentally slam it into the corner as they turned. Brendon felt like a complete failure.

"Brendon."

Brendon stopped and reluctantly looked at his mother with an emotionless stare.

Grace hurried over and caught Brendon before he started up the stairs, although Ryan let go of him and continued to walk. She quickly put her arms around Brendon's neck before letting go. "I'm sorry."

Brendon didn't really know how to respond. He pressed his lips together and formed a straight smile, if it could even be called a smile, and he nodded once before racing to catch up with Ryan. Brendon wasn't used to any kind of apology from his mother or father. He was only used to everything they did being the right thing to do, regardless of how much he was hurt by it. Somehow, over the years, they had convinced him that they were right, and now with the second time his mother had ever admitted wrongdoing, Brendon suddenly regretted ever believing that he somehow deserved what they put him through.

Ryan stood in the center of Brendon's room with his hands on the back of his neck. As Brendon walked in, Ryan slid his hands down a little bit to simultaneously crack all of his fingers by pressing them against the sides of his neck before he sat down on the bed. Brendon was a little too ashamed of himself to even speak. He sat down next to Ryan, making no eye contact, and he quickly opened his nightstand drawer and he prayed that he would be able to find what he was looking for.

Brendon removed one small object, hiding it in his hand, and he continued to dig a little more. "There we go." He pulled out a black circle and quickly shut the drawer, turning to face Ryan and taking Ryan's hand in his own. "You asked if I had any more of these."

Ryan nodded, staring blankly at the plastic bracelet that his friend was holding.

"Here." Brendon started to slide the bracelet over Ryan's bony hand as he spoke. "You know I care about you, right?"

Ryan nodded, letting himself smile, and Brendon knew he had to appreciate every smile that Ryan allowed him to see.

"I don't want you to forget that. Even if you forget everything else." Brendon leaned forward and put one arm around Ryan's neck while wrapping his other arm around Ryan's waist. "Just don't forget that I care about you." Brendon pulled away in order to lose himself in Ryan's eyes. "With all my heart, Ryan. I really do."

Ryan nodded and shifted sideways so he could comfortably rest his head just below Brendon's shoulder. He pointed to the other side of Brendon's leg, where Brendon had laid whatever other object he had taken from the drawer.

"Oh, it's this." Brendon grabbed the silver metal and handed it to Ryan. A small pair of fingernail clippers. "I'd like you to use these instead of hurting yourself. Could you try for me?"

Ryan nodded and sat up. "You..." He cleared his throat after having not talked for quite a while. "I will, but I want you to use this instead of hurting yourself as well."

Brendon didn't know what Ryan wanted him to use, but it quickly became obvious. Ryan lifted Brendon's hand by the fingers and he brought the back of it to his lips, placing a gentile kiss on the skin before bringing their hands down. He pressed Brendon's hand against his chest, right over his heart, and he looked into Brendon's eyes. Brendon looked amazed and amazing, staring forward with his arm outstretched, his hand held against Ryan's chest. "It's beating for you."

Brendon had just been given every reason in the world to stop ruining himself.