(a/n: to the people who pushed Josh off the platform, pulled his pants off, and groped him, I hope you're happy with your self)

*Ryan POV*

I woke up to the sound of loud sobs coming from down the hall. The clock on the bedside table read 3:35 am, I let out a slight groan before finally deciding I needed to go check on him. Before I could get down the hallway to the spare bedroom that served as Brendon's room, I heard the shattering of glass. I sprinted down the hallway trying to get to the room as fast as I could. The door was locked.

"Brendon, open the door." I banged on the door.

I didn't hear anymore sobs.

"Brendon, come on open the door." I shouted louder.

When busting down a door, kick next to the knob. I recalled a post I had scene on one of those life hack tumblr pages.

"Brendon, are you okay?" I yelled one more time before stepping back and kicking the door open.

It took me a second to take in the scene when the door flung open. The mirror that hung above the dresser was shattered and next to the dresser a small frame lay in a heap. Around the small body was a pool of crimson blood seeping into the carpet.

"Brendon." I squeaked, rolling the grieving boy over to see the damage he had done.

Luckily, there didn't seem to be any fatal injuries, just a jagged cut diagonally across each wrist.

"Oh Bren, what have you done?" I whispered, examining his knuckles that were busted from punching the mirror.

I decided I should wake him so I could clean him up and get him back to sleep. Lightly I shook him by the shoulders, attempting to get him to respond. It took a couple shakes, before his eyes fluttered open.

"Come one Bren, let's get you cleaned up." I helped him up and led him down the hallway to the kitchen.

I left the boy there in his baggy plaid pajama and an oversized Nirvana t-shirt. Searching through all the cabinets, I finally found a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and gauze bandages. When I got back, Brendon was sitting on the island, swinging his legs back and forth.

"You're lucky you don't need stitches." I commented, pouring the hydrogen peroxide onto a rag. "This is going to sting a little."

The boys face scrunched up as I dabbed the rag to the cut on his right arm.

"Ry-Ryan. I-I'm s-sorry. I-I didn't me-mean to." The boy stuttered through sobs.

"It's okay Bren, I understand. Just let me get you cleaned up and back to sleep, you need it." I finished cleaning and bandaging his cuts, and then wrapped his knuckles with an ace bandage.

"Th-thank you." I sniffled.

I helped him off the kitchen island and then guided him back down the hallway to his room. He turned and stared at me for a second.

"Ry, c-can you st-stay with me? Un-til I fall asleep?" he stuttered, appearing even smaller in the dark room.

"Sure Bren." I sat on the edge of the bed and waited patiently for the younger boy to settle down.

"Ry-Ry, I know this may seem weird, b-but can y-you hold me w-while I f-fall asleep. Th-that's what D-Da-, w-what he used to do." Brendon sat up and looked towards me.

"Alright." I wiggled closer and got under the covers before pulling him into my frame.

I was doing this for his comfort. I didn't like Brendon, he only wanted this because he was grieving and missed his husband. He doesn't like you either, you only want this because you want to help a mourning friend. This is all for the benefit of your friend.

Once Brendon's breathing evened out, I fell asleep to his heartbeat. This was wrong and I knew it, but I didn't like Brendon. Brendon was my grieving friend that needed comforting, yea that was all.