Mitis managed to get Rasmus to their apartment, stopping at the living room. He picked up his friend by his suit collar up to his face before throwing the limp body onto the couch. The few pillows and blankets that made up Mitis’ bedding flew off the red couch as Rasmus slammed onto it. As Rasmus starting to get up again, a expression full of rage started to shadow his face. Mitis panicked and threw a punch straight into Rasmus jaw, causing the man’s head to snap sideways and spit out blood onto the carpet. Rasmus' hazel eyes met his friend's silvered eyes as he gave a vicious snarl.

"Well? That the best you got!?" Rasmus voice boomed, echoing throughout the apartment.

Another punch struck him, causing him to roll off the bed and stumble onto the floor. He crawled away only for Mitis to kick him to the ground. Rasmus crawled to the coffee table, bracing himself against it, struggling to stand up.

Mitis putting his hands to his knees, catching his own breath. The two froze for a couple of minutes before Mitis spoke up.

"Look..." Mitis started, sympathy ringing in his faltering voice. "Why didn’t you come to me? If you really wanted to die... you wouldn't have tried to kill yourself in our apartment, right?"

Rasmus chuckled to himself, slowing down and taking deeper breaths. Rasmus stood up straight, looking at Mitis as his shaky breaths returned to normal. Mitis stood up straight as he walked around the sofa, planning to lead Rasmus to his bed where he could rest off his pain.

As Mitis reached for Rasmus' shoulder, Rasmus ducked low and tackled Mitis, smashing into the coffee table.

“You were always a goody-two-shoes until the very end, weren’t you!?” Rasmus yelled as he unloaded into Mitis.

Mitis’ wounds from his very recent torture were re-opening under the beating, and blood started seeping through his clothes. Rasmus raised both hands above his head, aiming to knock out Mitis with a final blow so he could go back to the garage. Rasmus paused, a wicked grin crossing his face as he admired the bloody mess that once was his best friend. Mitis lowered his hands from his face, allowing him to see what Rasmus was about to do and rolled out of the way just as Rasmus brought his fists down. The force from the blow cracked the table and flattened it against the slick carpet.

Mittis climbed to his feet, holding the left side of his abdomen which was bleeding profusely. He only had managed to raise his head to see a man, slouched over. The static of the TV shadowed Rasmus’ figure.

But… Mitis didn’t see the man he knew as Rasmus.

Mitis only saw a broken man who has lost his motivation in life.

Mitis saw something in Rasmus that reminded him of himself, when he learned that most of his closest friends had died.

However… the one to bring him back from the darkness was the man in front of him.

Greeting an old friend as if nothing had happened.

Casual conversation over a glass of whiskey.

His best friend knew him best. And his best friend knew how to bring the broken man from the darkness that his dead friends left him.