After four days spent in the hospital, Brendon was allowed to leave. Dallon had told his mother all about what happened the second day, after Brendon told him to go home and shower, eat, rest and whatever else. She insisted upon coming the next morning to visit Brendon, but Brendon didn't mind. He actually liked seeing her.

"Honey, it's not your fault," she'd said to Dallon in the hallway outside of Brendon's room. "It wasn't your fault back then, and it isn't now."

Dallon had only shook his head and held back tears as he hugged his mother goodbye.

Sarah and Pete came to visit too, along with several other friends of Dallon's and Brendon's. It made him happy to see that so many people actually cared about him, even if his own family didn't. He had to cut his mother some slack, because she tried to do things for Brendon, but his father pretty much kept her on lock.

The majority of the time, though, had been spent with Dallon at his side. Brendon was slowly becoming able to hear and see properly again, and talking didn't take so much effort. His reaction time was a little off, and they learned from short walks around the hospital that he'd become a little more clumsy than before, (Dallon didn't know that was even possible) but it was alright. He was recovering, and it was all easier with Dallon there to help him.

They still hadn't talked about the reason he was in the hospital in the first place. Brendon knew that Dallon had been avoiding the question out of respect, but as soon as they were home and alone, he imagined that Dallon would deserve some sort of an explanation.

He wanted to pour everything out, to tell him exactly what happened, from homecoming night to the moment he took the pills and slit his wrist. But that would mean telling him about Caleb, about how he'd come to Brendon's house a second time. That was Brendon's fault, that was his mistake. He allowed Caleb to come over.

He tapped his fingers on his leg as Dallon drove him home, the radio playing softly with Dallon singing along. They were going to Brendon's house, so he could change into some new clothes and so that they could be alone. Dallon insisted to his mother that when Brendon was discharged, he'd take him home alone and that he could watch him on his own.

He helped Brendon up the stairs, an arm around his waist to make sure he didn't stumble. It wasn't too hard though, because Brendon was getting closer and closer to his normal self.

When they got to the bedroom, Dallon couldn't help but glance at the bathroom, his stomach churning as he remembered the way he'd found Brendon in there, with blood everywhere. He'd had to throw away the clothes he had on that day, because he couldn't bare to look at them, stained with blood, longer than he needed to. One of the maids must have cleaned it up while they were gone.

They were so tired from spending so long in the hospital, that they both climbed into bed together, holding each other and thanking the stars that they were in each other's arms again.

**
When Brendon woke up, it was late afternoon. He sighed, because he knew that his internal clock was going to be all fucked up, and when he went back to school the next week, it would suck. He rolled over, his eyebrows furrowing when he realized Dallon was gone.

"Dal?" He called, sitting up and looking around the dimly lit room. Dallon was standing by the door, wearing shorts and nothing else as he held a trash bag in one hand.

"Hey, Bren, sorry if I woke you up," he said.

"No, it's fine," Brendon said, "What are you doing?"

"All of your posters and stuff were torn up, so I'm throwing them away. Some stuff wasn't too messed up, so I hung them back up," Dallon answered.

"Oh," Brendon said, looking around at his mostly bare walls. "Thank you."

"No problem, babe," Dallon said, "I'll be right back."

He left the room, leaving the bedroom door open behind him. Brendon yawned and stretched, the blankets falling down around his hips as he sat back and grabbed his phone from the bedside table, and he smiled at the Instagram notifications he was tagged in, all of his new friends posting about how they hoped he was feeling better.

Dallon climbed back onto the bed beside him, smiling and kissing the side of his face. "I want to take you somewhere," he said.

"Where?" Brendon asked.

"I'm not telling you," Dallon responded, a distant smile on his lips as he leaned forwards. He pressed their lips together softly, holding the side of Brendon's face.

"I love you," he said, and Brendon smiled and returned the words, before Dallon rolled out of bed again.

"Let's get ready," Dallon said, "We don't have to dress up."

Brendon nodded, and once both of them were dressed, Dallon led him downstairs and to the car. They took Brendon's, because like Dallon had said a million times before, it was a cool car.

"How far away are we going?" Brendon asked, closing the car door behind him as Dallon started the car.

"About two hours," Dallon said, smiling.

"Two hours?" Brendon asked, "Jesus, that's a long time."

"You don't believe in Jesus," Dallon sang, pulling out of Brendon's driveway.

**

When Dallon finally woke Brendon up, they were parked at a restsraunt that Brendon didn't recognize. "Where are we?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

"This is the town where I used to live," Dallon said, turning off the car and turning to Brendon. He looked a little bit sad, and Brendon furrowed his eyebrows, but before he could ask what was wrong, Dallon got out of the car, and came around to open Brendon's door.

They walked into the small diner, and Dallon smiled at the woman behind the counter.

"Dallon?" She asked, smiling at him. "It's been forever."

"It really has," Dallon responded, leading Brendon to a table against a window. He looked outside, to the main road they'd come from, all the other small buildings and restsraunts. This town was a lot smaller than Brendon's.

"They've got the best pancakes here," Dallon said.

"Pancakes?" Brendon asked, smiling, "It's time for dinner, not breakfast."

"Who says we can't have pancakes for dinner?" Dallon smiled, leaning across the table a little.

Brendon giggled, shaking his head as Dallon's stupid smile got bigger, his dimples showing. But something was off about him, Brendon was just too scared to mention it because it might have had something to do with him. He seemed a little down, like he was thinking really hard.

When they were finished eating, Dallon left the woman who he apparently knew a big tip, and they left. Dallon was driving again, holding Brendon's hand across the console as the sun slowly sank in the sky, and he hummed along to Radiohead, playing on the radio.

Brendon was quiet, scared of saying the wrong thing. He'd never felt this uncomfortable around Dallon before, he'd never kept a secret from him. It felt wrong to be hiding something, but he was too afraid to talk about it.

They pulled into a parking lot, but Brendon couldn't really tell where they were. There was a stone wall around them, and a gate. They climbed out of the car, and Dallon lead him towards it.

SOUTH END CEMETERY

Brendon furrowed his eyebrows. He'd never been to a cemetery, not that he could remember. He held onto Dallon's arm, moving closer to him. "Dal?" He asked.

"Yeah, babe?" Dallon answered, his voice soft.

"What are we doing here?" Brendon whispered, feeling like he needed to keep his voice down for some reason.

Dallon sighed, coming to a slow stop underneath a tree. There were lamps around them that were turning on as it got darker, the sky turning red and purple. Brendon's eyes scanned the gray gravestones, lined up in rows. His eyes landed on the one right in front of them: WEEKES.

"Dal-"

"My brother," Dallon said, his voice strained. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes.

Brendon just looked up at him with wide eyes, not sure what to say. Dallon had a brother?

"He-" he cut off, taking a deep breath. "He killed himself. Seven years ago."

Brendon swallowed, hard. He blinked and opened his mouth before he even thought of anything to say. "Oh," he finally choked out.

"Yeah," Dallon said. "I, um... I found him. In the bathroom."

"Dallon," Brendon said, hearing the way Dallon's voice was about to break.

"I- I thought you were gone," Dallon said, squeezing Brendon's hand. "It's the reason I don't like blood. Because I was eleven when I found him there, he had his arms cut open. There was blood all over the place."

"Oh my god, Dallon," Brendon said, "I'm so sorry." He felt so guilty, he couldn't believe he'd put Dallon through that a second time.

Dallon shook his head quickly, wiping tears from his eyes before they fell. "Don't be sorry, I'm not trying to guilt trip you," he said, "It's just that- I thought I was going to lose you, too."

"Baby," Brendon whined, sliding himself under Dallon's arms, hugging him and pressing his face into his chest.

"I don't want to lose you, Brendon," Dallon mumbled, staring up at the sky as the sun set above them. "I love you."

"I love you too, Dallon," Brendon said back, tears in his eyes as well.

"Just-" Dallon began, pausing. "Why'd you do it?"

Brendon couldn't stand it any further without breaking down. He pressed his face into Dallon's chest, muffling his sobs. He held the cloth of Dallon's shirt in his fists, holding him close.

"Bren, what is it?" Dallon asked, "You can tell me. Here, let's sit down."

They sat next to each other on the ground, underneath the tree and in front of Dallon's brother's grave. Stars were just starting to appear in the sky as Brendon finally calmed himself down enough to speak, Dallon's hand stroking up and down his back helping with that.

"Dallon, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you this sooner," he said, "I just- I didn't want to make you mad."

Dallon's eyebrows furrowed. "What is it?" He asked, worried.

"I just-" Brendon sighed. "At the party, um... C-Caleb put something in my drink, and-and.."

"Fuck," Dallon said, "Fucking shit, are you serious, Bren?"

"He raped me, Dallon. I swear I didn't want it, I didn't know what was happening and I couldn't move and then I passed out and-"

Dallon shushed him to cut him off, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Baby," he said softly, "I know. I believe you. I'm so sorry I wasn't there to stop that, I should have been paying better attention."

"It's not your fault," Brendon said, "But when I went home, I- I didn't know what really happened, but I found his wallet in the room when I woke up so I knew it had something to do with him. So, I... texted him."

Dallon's expression didn't change.

"He came over, and.. He did it again, Dal, I just- I told him 'no', but he's stronger than me," Brendon said. "And he pushed me on the couch, and it happened again, but really it was my fault because I texted him the first time. And he told me he drugged me at the party, and he kept talking to me and saying fucked up things.."

"I'm so sorry, Brendon," Dallon said, pulling Brendon closer. "You don't deserve that. I can't fucking believe he'd do that. I'll kick his ass."

Brendon giggled despite the situation, shaking his head. "I mean, I've had sex with him before, so I guess it's not really that big of a deal."

"Brendon," Dallon said, firmly. "It doesn't matter how many times you has sex with him. He drugged you, and that's not okay. And even though you told him he could come to your house to talk, what he did was still way out of line."

Brendon nodded, "I just felt like.. I cheated on you."

"No," Dallon said, "It's not the same thing. Do you want to tell the police? Cause he can go to, like, prison for that."

"No, no way," Brendon said. "I don't want anyone to know. I don't want to have to tell my parents, or your parents, I don't want anyone to find out."

"Are you sure? You don't want anything done about it?"

Brendon sighed, wiping his face. "If I tell the cops, it'll just be a bigger deal. I just want to forget it."

"Alright," Dallon said, "It's your choice. I love you."

"I love you too."

"If he ever does it again I'll stab him," Dallon said, and Brendon rolled his eyes, lying back and pulling Dallon with him, so they were on their backs looking up at the stars.

"Are you mad?" Brendon asked, looking over at Dallon.

"Not at you," Dallon answered. "I promise. I'm mad at Caleb, and I'm mad about the whole thing in general, but not at you. Because it's not your fault."

Brendon sighed and looked back at the sky.

"There's your sign," he said, pointing it out to Dallon. "You can see mine too, it's cool cause ours are close, so we can see them at the same time."

Dallon nodded, but he was way more interested in looking at Brendon than he was the constellations, because either way, it was like he was seeing the stars.