Somehow, someway they'd made it. All of them, every single one of them had made it off that mountain.

The months had swam by in a hazy blur, winter mud turning to blooms before he'd even noticed it. Chris had found himself preoccupied with a lot though, so he supposed the strange passing of time was only to be expected. He moved on autopilot, sleepwalking through every minute of every day.

The motions were simple. School, homework, friends. He had final exams coming up, wasn't sure how he'd do on them because-

He'd been busy. He had people to attend to, his friends all needed him, needed someone to support them through their trauma and grief. Stepping up to fill the slot had been automatic and the ability to help his loved ones heal and move on was amazingly heady.

It was exhausting a bit. Chris didn't feel like he had a lot of time to himself but he was hardly about to begrudge the needs of his friends.

Sometimes though.

Sometimes he just wanted to beat their heads in. Sometimes he just wanted to scream down their throats. Sometimes explosions would battle inside his gut and left him feeling woozy and restless in the aftermath.

It was frightening. Aggression had never been a huge facet in his nature and he waged wars with himself daily over the cause of it.

He had a feeling he knew what it was, at least in part. But it was such bullshit, it was the most ridiculous thing.

He had no right to feel used.

But he did. Always he was finding himself mediating between his friends and their pain, answering phone calls after nightmares, being the rock for them to hang onto to pull themselves out of the rapids.

And they never seemed to give a shit about him in return.

Sam had asked once or twice, how he was doing but it was easy to tell that she wasn't actually looking for a genuine answer. Responding that he was in pain every hour of every day would be both melodramatic and would upset the routine they had going.

She didn't push. When Mike asked, he always let him brush it off.

Ash just flat out didn't bother.

It wasn't fair of him to expect his friends to push until he cracked on them though. Just because Josh was always able to read between the lines, made experienced by their long friendship, didn't mean they would be able to.

And Chris never flat out said that he needed their help either so how were they supposed to know?

The conflict never ended though. He picked up smoking, stole a pack from his dad because that always seemed to unwind his old man and God knew he needed to relax.

He was constantly tense, constantly jumping at the slightest noise or flicker of movement in his periphery. The dark was a killer and he never went outside at night anymore. Corners always felt as though certain death was lurking on the other side. He yearned for the safety of fire even as the smell of their fireplace, the sound and sight of red popping wood made him sick.

A mess of contradictions, that was his life right now. It was a bewildering place to be in, confusing and frustrating and depressing at the best of times and he bottled it up habitually, pushed it to the side to deal with it later.

It had always worked before.

Except. Except now there was no later because he had seven* friends that needed him for something of every moment he had awake.

They had psychiatrists, the entire lot of them. Hell, Chris was seeing one himself, a woman who'd been late by over an hour to their first appointment because she was working at the hospital as well.

Another contradiction, the sting of feeling like a worthless inconvenience versus the empathy of knowing there were sick people who needed her more.

But psychiatrists weren't available of every hour of every day and aside from Josh and Ashley none of them had been diagnosed with a mental illness. The rest of them didn't receive visits from community support workers three times a week, supplemental appointments with a caseworker plus the psychiatrist.

Hell, of all of them only Josh was getting that level of support because he'd been the only one of them to be committed.

So what he was doing was more than necessary. He told himself as much routinely, reminding him that they needed him to be strong and needed him to be present.

He wasn't letting anyone else down, never again. Twice a stellar fuck up on his part had led to monumental consequences, a track record he held with shame.

He couldn't afford another one. The next cock up might involve getting an entire goddamn neighbourhood killed, the way things were going.

He had to suck it up. He could do that.

The bench was cold and Chris shivered somewhat against it, pulled his hoodie in close. Considering it was almost summer the days had been startlingly cold, at least in the mornings, and he was kind of regretting not adding another layer even though he knew he'd be boiling under them later. The blond shifted, pulled his feet up so the heels of his shoes rested against the edge and draped his front against his thighs.

A glance at his cellphone. He'd been early getting to their agreed upon meeting place and there was still about three more minutes before Josh was due, providing he arrived on time. The brunet was in the habit of being late, a little absent mindedness always having him looking for something or turning back because he'd forgotten a thing.

So it was a bit of a surprise to see Josh through the fog of cigarette smoke, approaching at a light jog with a wave.

"Yo, Cochise!"

"Josh." Chris blinked, shocked, took a long look at his watch.

Above him the brunet laughed, a sarcastic noise and Chris could tell just by the sound of it that the other man was rolling his eyes. He couldn't help a smile even as his skin prickled with unease.

Being around Josh was hard lately, harder than all the others put together.

It hurt that he couldn't just jump back into their friendship the way it'd been before but he couldn't. He was trying, he was trying very hard to play it cool, stay calm, pretend nothing had ever happened but inside he was a boiling mess of love and hate.

For years he'd looked up to the brunet, idolized him, sought him out for safety when his dad just wouldn't do. Josh had been the brother Chris hadn't been born with but grown up with all the same. He looked back to the shy little catastrophe he'd been at the start of third grade, firmly cemented nerd status with no friends to call his own and grimaced at the thought of what may have been had he never been sent to the back of the class.

That day had been the best of his life, the start of a road to which he was eternally grateful.

He thought about it a lot.

But Josh apparently didn't hold him in nearly such high esteem. Chris had been sure the feeling was entirely reciprocated but, well.

Apparently it wasn't.

And now he just couldn't bring himself to trust the older man, couldn't do it for the life of him. He wondered why, wondered what was wrong with him because after all it'd only been a prank.

A prank that had made him think he was going to die, whispered the voice he tried to ignore. A prank that had made him think he'd killed one of the best things that ever happened to him.

It hurt. It didn't matter that Josh hadn't been in his right mind, it still hurt and he hated himself for it because it shouldn't. He should've been able to understand.

He had nightmares now, that he'd never had to deal with before. Nightmares of Josh screaming at him, pleading with him as he was sawed in half, 'Why would you do this I thought we were friends' and then rising again to push a gun to his head, force him outside to be brutally killed. The events of the prank played over and over in his dreams, a killshot combo of gory remembrance and fantastical terror.

It was a rare night that he got much sleep anymore.

But he had to stick with this. Everyone else had abandoned Josh, something that Chris didn't exactly judge them for.

The brunet had only him now and Chris wasn't about to let him fall again.

"Come on man, even by two minutes you're never early. What's up?"

"Dude, I'm not that bad. Nothings up, I just...got everything straight before I popped out."

Josh shrugged. Before, Chris would have taken it for face value because what reason would he have to lie about that?

Now he couldn't help but wonder if the older man was lying to him, was trying to manipulate him into some other terrifying scene. Josh was better than he'd been in a long time, back on meds and recieving all the professional help he could stand but the thoughts still persisted. It was shameful but it was the truth.

The blond smiled all the same though, uncurled from the bench and stood. Taking a last pull and then plucking the cig from his lips he blew out, crushed the filter beneath his heel.

"Well you won't catch me complaining. What did you wanna get up to?"

They'd decided to meet up at Granville island, somewhere that was nice and not enclosed. It was full of people though, which could pose a problem. Josh had to rebuild his stamina for socializing, party days behind him for now and Chris had to as well. Too much stimulation at once, be it sound or sight was painfully overwhelming.

It pissed him off. Didn't make school easy, that was for damn sure.

"Well I need to figure out what size I even am now." Josh plucked at his shirt with a grimace at how little it gave. "Damn meds got me packing on the pounds quicker than you can say yolo. After that I figured we could snoop, maybe grab some lunch if we're around that long."

They probably wouldn't be.

He'd be impressed if the both of them held out for forty minutes in the hustle bustle sensory overload bright lights loud noise too many people.

Hopefully it would be enough to grab Josh some clothes that fit him and get him something to eat before they left.

The blond nodded, ducked his head and turned to amble through away from the bench.

'Calm.' He reminded himself as he stepped into the lead, sensing it as Josh stepped in close to his back. 'Steady.'

Already he could feel his senses tingling with the threat of his best friend's presence so close yet out of sight and Chris took in another breath, gritted his teeth against the urge to knock Josh back. Calm. Steady.

Just don't forget to breathe.

Chris forced himself to stand tall as they walked, their path through cleared as people moved out of their way automatically. They spoke, caught up since they'd seen each other the week before. It wasn't easy for Josh, not when he was surrounded on all sides but Chris kept on encouraging him.

Hopefully it would be easier for the brunet someday soon.

Clothes were tried on and bought and just as Chris had expected they were Done by the time it was over with.

The blond had taken the bus to get there. Though he had a car Josh had wanted to drive him home for some reason or another.

The fear was real.

But he had no reason to disagree and even though it was hard to be near him the last thing Chris wanted to do was hurt Josh.

The pain of being the direct cause of another breakdown would be too much.

Josh's truck had been bought brand new off the lot when he'd gotten into college. It was a monster, four doors, massive wheels, matte black with a row of just as dark lights up top. The brunet had loved it because it was dramatic, a statement, huge and said it would be perfect in the event of the eventual zombie apocalypse.

He hefted himself up and in with a grip on the handle and a foot on the stand beneath the door, swung into the seat that was thankfully clean.

He pulled the door shut. He buckled in.

He tried not to be scared.

Josh would do nothing to actually hurt him after all. The gun had been filled with blanks and the saws over their heads never would have actually cut into them.

But he'd still torment him psychologically and it was impossible to stay off guard.

So far Chris had avoided actually being alone with Josh. Their meetings had been public, in the broad light of day, always surrounded by other people no matter how uncomfortable and exhausted it made the both of them.

But now they were together inside the brunet's pick up where he had all the power, on his territory.

Josh wouldn't hurt him.

He wouldn't.

"Hey Cochise, relax." The engine was turned over with a rumble and Chris's eyes shot to his friend, heat spilling over his ears.

Josh smiled, waggled his brows but he still looked concerned. Was it a lie? Had he ever been safe? What else had he done in his sickness to Chris that he'd never picked up on?

Nothing. The answer was blatantly nothing but the monster screaming in the back of his head wasn't listening to logic as it drummed out worst case scenarios. Chris focused harder on trying to breathe, his fingers beginning to prickle unpleasantly, chest unbearably tight, and turned ahead.

"I mean, I know I'm a bit of a lousy driver but I'm not that bad." Josh's chuckle was false.

They pulled out, the massive truck swinging into the traffic leaving the parking lot.

"Uh, yeah." Chris swallowed, pushed a grin onto his grimace. "No dude, you're worse. Hey uh, d'ya mind if I light one up?"

For a moment there was silence as Josh considered him from the corner of an eye.

"Nah man, go ahead."

Josh didn't approve. No one did really, especially not his dad and Ash but on some level Chris was done with trying to please everyone every step of the way. He fumbled out the carton through the seat

belt, rolled down his window and lit up, sucking in a long breath of toxins and nicotine with relief.

"You know, I thought your dad said that he was gonna hide those on you?"

"Hm? Oh yeah." Another deep drag and he turned, blew the smoke slowly out the window. "Nah, he's shit at hiding things, I started finding my Christmas presents when I was seven. Besides, I'm still getting an allowance so it's not like he can stop me unless he steals my ID."

Already it was helping. Cigarettes were a fucking miracle.

Chris turned his sight back to Josh, canted his head slightly. The other man's eyes slipped back to the road and it was easy to make out the disapproval etched into his face.

"Yeah I guess that's true isn't it. Does that mean I should nab your driver's license?"

"I guess if you don't mind driving me back and forth to school that would be fine." Chris snorted and dropped his gaze to his thighs.

He tried not to grit his teeth.

"Right."

There was small talk again, a short discussion of what they wanted for lunch that saw them through a McDonalds drive through. Josh bought the entire meal. He tended to do that when he was trying to butter Chris up for something.

They ate as they drove. Chris held the brunet's fries in one hand for Josh to dig into, his other full of a Big Mac that tasted like dirt. A lot of food tasted like dirt though, it was hardly surprising. It was off-putting however, and sometimes just the sight of food was enough for his stomach to curdle with nausea.

"So uh, you've probably figured that I have some ulterior motive for driving you home today." Josh tried to inject humor into his tone but it was weak.

"Well that's usually the case when you buy me food." Chris managed a smile through his trepidation, licked a gob of dressing off his thumb.

They pulled to a stop and not too far away Chris could see the ocean lapping and foaming against the shore. The beach was empty, desolate except for a man with a metal detector and a couple with a dog.

"I...wanted to talk."

The blond curled up, arms curling over the tops of his knees as he fiddled with the burger container. Blue eyes tilted back Josh's way and he cocked his head in askance.

A lot of the time his friends usually just needed someone to vent to, so quiet listening had become his new forte. Josh generally preferred some sympathy, the brunet came with a flair for drama that enjoyed being commiserated with and soothed. His mind flicked back and forth, going over potential subjects.

Josh's fingers pulled slowly from the thick black of his steering wheel and dropped to clasp in his lap. He sat back, his chin dropped.

"I want to talk about you."

Chris blinked once, twice. What?

"Chris, I...know I fucked up pretty big, at the lodge. I realize that now. Everybody's a genius in hindsight right?"

Josh turned to look at him with a thin smile, eyes gleaming sadly.

"I fucked up and I hurt you really bad. I hurt you more than anyone else. And I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

He could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Turning away with a long inhale through his nose, Chris pulled in his arms and flicked open the box to pick at the lettuce chunks littering the bottom.

"I'm...so sorry." Out of his peripheral he could see Josh turning away, his expression unclear. "You went through hell on that mountain, Chris."

"...We all went through hell." Chris murmured softly, bit deep into the fleshy insides of his cheek.

"Yeah but nobody else watched someone get decapitated! No one else pushed a gun to their head, no one-"

The brunet's voice was loud and insistent. Chris pushed back into the seat, pulled in his legs tighter and dropped his head. There was a pause, a thick gusty sigh and Josh continued.

"I'm getting off track...What I wanted to say was, Chris I know you're seeing a psychiatrist but I wanted you to know that if you ever need anything, anybody to talk to or help you remember to take meds I can do that okay? I'm here for you whenever you need me."

"I'm not on any meds." The blond muttered and turned his gaze out the passenger side window.

"What? You're not on any-Jesusfuck no wonder you've picked up smoking."

Why the hell would Josh think his doctor had prescribed him something? He hardly needed it passed some melatonin to help him get to sleep at night but he wasn't depressed, he wasn't anxious. He knew what those looked like through Josh and Ashley and he very plainly wasn't either.

A hand pressed against his arm and he stilled instantly, air freezing in his chest. It took two trembling seconds to remember how to breathe and he looked over, found Josh looking at him with a face that was kind and sorrowful.

It was one he'd seen many times, growing up. It was the one Josh wore when he knew Chris was sad and hurt over something and wanted to tell him that he understood and that Chris wasn't alone. It'd been there when he'd gotten his knees scraped, it'd been there when he was rejected romantically the first time and it'd been there whenever things felt like they were becoming too much to take.

But that was then.

"I know...that you don't trust me as much as you used to." Slowly Josh's gaze fell to the center console and his hand dropped. "Hell, if you trust me at all after the shit I pulled that would be a miracle. But still, I want you to know that I'm never gonna hurt you like that again. And I'm here for you, when you feel comfortable coming to me again. Okay?"

Josh knew?

What was he thinking, of course Josh knew. Chris was shit at hiding anything, he'd probably been blatantly obvious about it. Why was the brunet even bothering with him?

Still, it was...nice. It was nice that Josh knew, a relief and a validation, and it was nice that the brunet was willing to wait for him.

It gave him a bit of hope actually. Maybe their friendship did have a future.

Chris managed a smile, was glad to find that it felt somewhat more natural, and nodded.

"Yeah, alright. Thanks."

Josh grinned in return, seemed to be a bit relieved himself, and reached out to ruffle his hair.

"Don't mention it, bro." They laughed a bit as Chris swatted at his hand.

The tenseness gone from the atmosphere of the cabin and Chris found himself feeling fully relaxed for the first time since the lodge. His muscles unwound and it was surprising just how bunched up he'd been without noticing, less surprising just how sore and tired he was now that it was gone.

They stayed at the beach for a while longer, eventually getting out to walk and have a stretch. Josh grumbled over his lack of sketchbook ("I knew I'd forgotten something-damnit don't laugh at me Chris!"), took pictures of the scenery for reference instead and they headed back to the truck, conversing about paintings and other projects Josh was planning.

This time when he got into the truck it didn't feel like a coffin lid was closing over him. The trip home was muddled, fuzzy, corners and stop lights and Josh's cursing over shit drivers fading into the first sleep he'd had without trouble in a long time.

Something roused him he didn't know how much later, a firm hand shaking his shoulder and a low voice calling him back to wakefulness. Chris groaned and tucked in tighter against the surface he'd been sleeping on, pulling away from the honestly rude as hell jerk who was waking him up.

"C'mon, man, I know you're tired but you gotta wake up. We're here and I am a tiny weak marshmallow who can't lift your fat ass."

"Rude, Josh." Chris's jaw split in a yawn which he covered into the back of his hand, his other pushing his glasses up to knuckle at the sleep in his eyes.

He replaced his frames and sat properly, blinking dazedly up at his house. "How long was I sleeping for?"

"Bout an hour. Took you the long way around, you looked like you needed it."

"Really?" Chris stifled another yawn, scrubbed his hands through his hair. "You didn't have to, do I owe you gas money now?"

"Don't worry about it." Josh's smile was bright, if still touched by concern and Chris returned it. "So I'll see you next week right? Or this weekend even?"

"Got finals next week." Chris shook his head and reached to unbuckle his seatbelt. "So maybe after those? I'll text you."

"Sounds like a plan, Stan."

"Right." The blond pulled at the handle, paused as a soft grip reached out to take his wrist.

He turned, met the other's eye with a questioning look. Josh was silent for a moment before he bit into his bottom lip.

"You remember what I told you, alright? And...I think you should really talk to your shrink about the possibility of getting onto some meds, at least so you're sleeping better."

"Uh, sure."

The older man leaned forward then and the hand on his wrist became a grip around his shoulders. The hug was firm and for a second Chris was tense, a trapped sensation cutting into the back of his gut before he blew out a slow breath and returned it hesitantly. He softened into it slowly, let his head fall against the curve of Josh's shoulder and breathed in the familiar scent of the brunet's preferred aftershave.

This was comfortable, more than he thought he'd ever be able to feel again. His best friend was going to be there for him when Chris needed him. Josh was stable now, and would never go for something so malicious and terrifying again.

And when Josh wasn't stable Chris would be there for him. It was just that simple.

Josh gave his back a firm pat, a muffled "Love you, bro" into his shoulder and they released.

"Call me if you need anything okay?"

"Sure thing." Chris nodded, a smile pulling his exhausted features into some semblance of normality and he turned, was finally allowed to slip out of the truck.

He felt Josh's eyes on him the entire walk up the driveway and then the stairs, turned to return the gaze with a wave.

Josh seemed to smile, waved back but it was only after Chris stepped in and shut the door behind him that he heard the rumble of the trucks engine again, the faint creak of tires and he watched through the window in the door as the massive black truck pulled out and then turned down the street.

He watched it until it was gone, released a sigh and closed his eyes.

Maybe everything would be okay.