No words were said. No apologies or sentences filled to the brim with pity and worry.

No cute kisses or meaningless well wishes that would only end up on the floor of his home.

That's not what he needed and they knew it.

No empty sympathy or careful steps to avoid his pain.

No changing the subject of the incident whenever someone would try to bring it up, no stopping him from replaying it.

That's not what he needed and they knew it.

What he needed was them.

He needed to be held, touched, reminded that he was still alive, physically at least.

He needed to be wrapped in someone's arms, all of their arms, he needed to be close to a beating heart, somewhere that he could call home.

He didn't need them to cry with or for him, no, the tears were long gone, and now he was left with only a chest of regrets and a very clear sense of detachment to the world.

He needed them.

He thought on it. On everything that had happened that led up to this point of the three men around him holding his body tightly on the kitchen floor as he shook with yet another terrifying memory of his misfortune.

He decided, as Jonathan rubbed a soft finger across his cold and twitching knuckles, that the funeral was the worst part.

Just seeing him laying there in the casket, face void of any warmth and body stiff with death, it made everything so much worse, so much more real.

It didn't really make any sense, either, as to why he was so upset and wrecked over the death of his friend, when it was a little known fact that Jonathon had been a lot closer to him than anyone in their group. Best friends, even.

In fact, one might venture to say that him and Ryan were the least close in the group, and that was true. The whole ordeal was orchestrated so Ryan could get to know one of his boyfriend's best friends better, to become closer in their small friendship.

So, it didn't make any sense for him to be acting this way, right?

That was a lie, though. It did make sense, considering he was there, he was a part of the accident.

They all told him there was nothing he could do except save himself, but Ryan, no, he refused to believe that.

And maybe that was one of the reasons why he couldn't stop shaking.

A soft touch of a hand on his cheek brought him out of his dangerous thoughts, forcing him to look at the blonde, blue eyes filled with worry and understanding as he caressed the older's face.

"How bad is it, Ryan?"

Hazel eyes closed and opened slowly, assessing the mental damage and coming up with a number to represent the attack forcing its way into his system.

"Nine."

He heard the soft intake of air and the arms around his waist tightened, seemingly trying to get him closer and more firm in the eldest's grasp.

Luke spoke with the broken man in his hold, head buried in Ryan's neck and voice coming out careful, hoping to end the attack quickly, not wanting his boyfriend to be in this damaged state for too long.

"Are you here with us, Ry? Is it too much?"

The brunette let go of a shaky breath he didn't know he had been holding, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and answering without much thought.

"I...I don't know..."

He could feel them, he could hear them, but he knew he wasn't completely there, drowning in the throes of the attack and losing himself in the emotional pain clawing its way up his body.

Flash images of Evan's mangled body and mutilated face drove their way into his brain, threatening his sanity, promising his devastation.

Faint noises could be heard in his mind, the yelling, the screaming, the question that had been spoken to him as Evan's last moments ticked by and his chocolate eyes begged for release from the pain.

"We'll be okay, right Ohm?"

"No..."

His weak voice was nothing new, but that didn't change the fact that it broke all three of his lovers' hearts each time it came through.

Each time, every time, they were afraid this would be the breaking point, the last time they would see Ryan, his mind muddled and covered, wrapped in steel thorns that they couldn't seem to break through.

They feared that someday, their soft touches and beating hearts wouldn't get through, wouldn't do anything, and their Ryan, their hazel eyed, brown haired, once bright Ryan, would disappear from them forever.

But, they were determined to save him. They couldn't stand to give up every time his thoughts wandered. They couldn't just let him fall.

They had always been there to pick him up, and this time would be no different.

Jonathan took the shaking hand in his grasp, squeezing reassuringly, his way of comforting his torn lover.

He had always been the one to really bring Ryan out of his troubled state, only because he harbored the same feelings, the same remorse and guilt.

He had been the one to whisper those words into his ear that always seemed to drag Ryan from the darkness in his mind back to his reality.

And the other two let it happen. Because they knew that no matter how many comforting words or carefully placed touches they gave him, Jonathon would always be the one to heal him, cover his mental wounds with a bandaid.

Temporary, yes, but it got the job done until the next breakdown.

Ryan looked up, eyes slightly glazed over, so he was staring at Jonathan, his haunted pupils telling a story that the raven haired male had heard time and time again, but kept listening to.

He took Ryan's face in his hands and rubbed at his skin with his thumbs, his own plagued eyes staring straight back into the hazel ones, feeling a hand on his shoulder, one he could easily identify as Luke's.

He ignored it, focusing on the man in front of him, the one who was going through yet another terrifying bout of anxious shaking.

Jon's voice was nothing above a whisper, soft and pleading, eyes never breaking contact as he spoke.

"Breathe, Ryan. You gotta breathe."

For a second, he really thought the older was gone, mind lost within a sea of sadness, body following suit, but that splinter of time passed, and then he could hear the harsh swallow and shaky exhale.

He could see the shift in Ryan's eyes as he began to take in slow breaths of air, exhaling equally as slow, cloudiness fading slightly, panic slowing momentarily.

Jon smiled weakly, nodding as he felt Ryan's shaking cease, watching Bryce place a hand on his leg tentatively, as if to make sure the brunette was really there.

Jon nodded, blue eyes silently sharing a look of knowledge with Ryan, the look that told him he felt the same way.

"Kay, good. Now, listen to me, alright?"

Ryan nodded, hand reaching to grasp one of Jon's arms, the other interlocking with Bryce's.

Luke was watching, afraid to disrupt Jon's healing process, opting for sitting away a bit, knowing he could be near Ryan later, after his outburst had passed.

Ryan swallowed the lump in his throat, voice coming out hoarse and shaky, weak and broken.

"I'll be okay someday, right Jon?"

Jon felt his heart break at that.

Ryan didn't think he could be helped right now?

He didn't think he could be okay right here?

But Jon understood, and by the looks he shared with his other two lovers, they understood, too.

So, he just nodded and rubbed Ryan's cheek, speaking slowly and carefully.

"Maybe not right now, but yeah, course you'll be 'kay someday, Ry. I promise."

He didn't expect the words to come out of Ryan's mouth so quickly, so painfully, but they did, and all he could do was stare at his boyfriend for a few moments.

"I keep seeing him, Jon. H-he told me to look after everyone. I.....I think I'm going crazy..."

The way Ryan looked at him, eyes filled with a hopeful plea, practically begging Jon to help him, it tore the smaller man apart.

And when Bryce and Luke heard him, there was a storm in Bryce's eyes, one that made him squeeze Ryan's hand a little tighter, made his heart feel a little weaker.

Luke was exchanging a look with Jonathan, his eyes searching for an explanation, some type of reason for Ryan's words.

Ryan pulled his hands away from his boyfriends, opting for hugging himself and looking down at the floor he was seated on, swallowing harshly and speaking with a low voice.

"I-I'm sorry...."

It was a weak whisper, one that he could just barely force out while he held himself and inhaled shaky breaths.

Jonathan's hands moved down to his arms, and he leaned down so he could look Ryan in his hazel eyes, which now flickered between his gaze and the floor.

"No....no, don't be sorry, Ry. It's alright, it's normal for things like that t'happen," he took his chin in his hand and tilted Ryan's face up to look at him, a small smile on his features, used to try to calm the brunette down, "You're not crazy, baby, just grieving."

Jonathan was looking at it in a different light, like he always did. The way he saw it, Ryan wasn't manifesting some sort of apparition from his mind, no. He liked to think of it as Evan trying to stop Ryan's constant struggle.

Whether it was his imagination or not, it was very clear that the man in Jon's grasp needed to start to heal.

He was about to say something, but a voice interrupted him, saying the same thing he was thinking, but better.

"Ryan, Evan's telling you to stop blaming yourself. And it's obvious he wants you to take care of us," A small inhale, lBut that's okay, I think we should be taking care of you right now."

Bryce's voice was soft and reassuring, and as he held Ryan's hand in his own, rubbing circles on his unusually pale skin, the brunette started to feel a little less panicked, a little less shaky.

When Jonathan cupped his face in his hand, fingers tracing soothing shapes on his cheek, Ryan could feel his dilemma start to fade, his broken heart trying to piece itself back together.

Luke's hand on his back was helping, his own fingers running along his spine in a way that only comforted him when it was the bearded man's touch, and Ryan could feel the weight lifting off his shoulders.

Sure, he wasn't okay in any sense, hell, he was far from it. Mentally damaged to a point that would take a long time to fix.

But, at least he had the three people he loved to hold him together.

He was taking it one step at a time, one small step that the others were willing to wait on.

He knew that, when daylight began to peek through and he had finally risen up off the ground, he would still be down, still broken and torn from the whole situation.

And he knew that, in another day or two, he would yet again find himself on the floor, holding himself and trying to keep his mind from shattering, trying to keep his eyes from wandering.

But, he could only hope that they would be there, that he wouldn't ever have to go through this pain alone.  That they would hold him and comfort him until he could yet again pick himself up from the ground and continue his life.

He was grateful for them.

They put their lives on hold, just so he could put his in motion. Just so he didn't drown, didn't disappear in his words or thoughts.

As he reveled in their touches, basked in their warmth, accepted their comfort, he came to the realization that he was going to be alright someday.

He had his best friends, his boyfriends, to keep him sane, to hold him up until he could someday hold himself up, and he was quite alright with that.

At some point in time, throughout his thinking, the other three had brought him into their bedroom and placed him on the bed.

He glanced around, finally noticing the change in scenery, and felt two arms around his body, hugging him against a chest.

He leaned back, laying against Luke, curling up on his chest with a light look on his face. The older accepted him, holding him tightly and threading his fingers through his hair.

He could feel Bryce at his back, his arms wrapping around them, head in the crook of his neck, and Ryan felt his heart flutter, the panic attack slowly but surely forcing itself out of his system, completely gone when Jonathan lie on the other side of Ryan's body, wrapping an arm around him lazily and planting a small kiss on his forehead, which he gladly accepted.

As he lay there, surrounded by the warmth of his lovers, wrapped in their arms, he knew he would be alright.

His voice was soft, a whisper that could barely be heard, but all three were listening, and it took no time for them to respond in unison.

"I'll be okay."

"You'll be okay."