Damon's POV

~

I've never seen Chris so quiet. We've switched planes and still had half a day more of traveling but yet he never spoke a word. When I walked into the dorm on Friday I never expected him to be in the state he was in. I'd never seen him so fragile, so broken.

I had never seen him cry like the world was coming to an end and when he just kept muttering the word dead I knew my worst fears were confirmed. But when I told him I'd take him home, he just got so quiet. He never cried again and his face completely changed to a blank mask. It felt like he'd given up or convinced himself that this was all a dream and his dad was still alive... I couldn't say which was worst; believing your dad was dead and not caring or thinking he was still alive.

When I'd lost both parent the same day I had chosen the former and it took me years to finally let myself feel. That was the hardest year of my life and now, years later, it still hurt.

My attention was focused once more on the boy staring out of the plane's window and I sighed as I saw him staring, never actually seeing anything. It was as though he was looking at the glass but at the same time, the scenery before him but they never really reached his brain.

I wanted to lash out for him, blame the university for forcing him to stay and do those stupid exams instead of going home to be with his dad and now, he never had that chance. I knew what it felt like to not say goodbye to a parent, and it sucked balls.

We left the plane and I just followed behind a mute, broken, form of a boy as he led me to the train station. The ride was slow and quiet and I tried to focus on my surroundings instead of worrying about him. We got picked up by a guy outside the station in some fancy ass hummer and the view changed from congested buildings to sparse lands on both sides. Houses were miles away from each other with dozens of farmlands and I tried not to look surprised as we pulled up to a house that could only be described as a mansion.

From what I could see in the drive, there was a stable with horses, a pasture with animals grazing and a long ass land with a long ass driveway leading up to a big ass house.

I got out and thanked the driver as I collected some of the bags and walked behind Chris. He pushed the double doors open and just walked up the stairs, ignoring the house full of crying people and I had no other choice but to follow him. We had spent most of the time traveling so we missed the two days of wake and tomorrow was the funeral. I dropped the bags at the open door as I watched Chris sit on his bed and the driver dropped the rest at my feet.

As he left a woman with red, puffy eyes came into view carrying a tray too heavy for a person to carry and I quickly grabbed it before they both crashed to the floor.

"Hi, I'm Victoria Hanicock but everyone calls me Vic. I heard you two came so I brought up some food. You guys must be hungry and tired so we won't bother you. Just eat and sleep and I'll wake you in the morning. Christopher doesn't have to come wake tonight so let him rest, okay?"

I nodded at the woman who was clearly fighting to stay composed and rested the tray on the desk. She smiled at me and closed the door and I turned to find Chris already asleep. He was curled up into a ball and I just sighed before grabbing something from the tray.

~

A few hours later and I failed in my attempt of keeping Chris in his room. He wanted to be apart of the wake and try as I might, I couldn't convince him otherwise. So now, I was being dragged (well not dragged, I followed him) and everyone had that sad look, minus the few that were always present at funerals, the ones that really knew to bawl their eyes out.

I took the seat next to Chris at the far end of the backyard as I watched the men eat and play dominos and cards. Chris was still mute and even when his mom fleetingly came to say hi, he did nothing. Some random dude stopped in front of us smiling and I resisted the urge to be mean as he pulled Chris out of his seat and into a hug. The only thing stopping me was Chris's zombielike attitude and so I sat still.

He had rainbow colored hair and wore skinny jeans with a huge t-shirt. His hair was covering his face and he acted as though him and Chris had history. Somehow he realized that I was out of place here because he turned to me (hand still around Chris's waist) and introduced himself.

"Hi, I'm Erin."

He extended his other hand and I just nodded before shifting my gaze in hopes he get the message and walk the fuck away. No such luck.

"Mind if I talk to him for a bit?"

"Why would I?" I snapped, unable to keep the harsh sound out of my voice.

"Well, you're his friend and you're obviously visiting so I don't wanna just leave you here alone."

The gay vibes that radiated off of him was like a tidal wave and I inhaled deeply as I tried not to think of anything other than them being friends. I supped him and watched as Chris was lead back into the house.

~

The funeral came and went and I was weirdly happy it was over. Memories of my own past kept resurfacing and as much as I wanted to be there for Chris, I had to keep my panic attack under wraps. I hated funerals and had vowed never to go to another one, having recently watched Levi get buried.

It came as no surprise when Chris showed no emotion at the funeral. It was an open casket viewing, I never went close of course, and when it was Chris's turn, he never shed a tear. He just looked at him and walked back to his seat. I knew not to bother him but he needed to express himself. Fucking scream, curse, hit something if he needed to but bottling shit inside was only ever going to erupt and sadly, never at a right time.

When it was his mom's turn she completely lost it and I guess Chris had enough because he just got up and started walking. I wordlessly followed him back to the car, which was his and was a freaking tundra... how the fuck does a small boy such as himself get to drive a damn truck?

The house was empty and Chris loosened his tie before heading into the kitchen. I decided to take a piss before heading there myself, just so he could get some alone time and was ever sorry I did.

I spent literally less than five minutes in the washroom and when I entered the kitchen Chris was staring out the window at who gives a fuck what as he pressed his hand onto the hot stove. It wasn't that normal stove with the flames. It was the part that you threw vegetables on, something that was used in certain restaurants when those Asian guys cooked in front of you.

I quickly ran and yanked his hand away before grabbing some toothpaste and literally plastered it onto his hand. It was already burned badly and I wanted to punch him to unconsciousness but his breakdown stopped me.

It was the worst I'd ever seen him and yet somehow, every time he broke down, it seemed to get worse. I pulled him to me when he started screaming and even when he hit against my chest, I still held him tighter. He needed to be held just as much as he needed to let it all out.

We stood like this until the house started filling and I still never let him go, and he still never eased in his screams. Everyone looked at me with pity but no one came close, not even the gay friend and I was greatful. After an hour or so I felt his body sag against me as he was drained and I allowed him to walk to the room that we had shared the night before.

When he got into the bed I was planning on just tucking him in and leaving put he tugged my jacket and the look in his eyes stopped all train of thought. I climbed in and he pulled me closer as his body fit perfectly between my arms.

I pulled my phone and sent a quick text to Derek letting him know that I was okay and just crashing at a friend's house before I fell asleep next to my emotionally damaged boy. I didn't even care that we were both fully dressed in funeral clothes and cuddling in a big house filled with people who could barge in at any moment. All I cared about was that I was here, with him, in my arms, at long last. There was one thought in my head as I buried my nose in his hair.

Whoever that man was, I could tell he was loved.