Crash personally didn't see anything wrong in his actions. Lost in his thoughts, he rubbed his busted lip with his fingers. Quinn was the one who started it, just like he started it at the rally. Acting innocent one moment then, like a little switch, he got flirty, insinuating things. Then click, and Quinn was off again. Crash didn't like how he messed with his head. Making him think one thing and then cutting him off. The sound of his cell phone ringing pulled him from his thoughts. It was Brandon.

"Yeah." He huffed, answering his phone.

"Crash. . . " Whispered Quinn from the other end.

"What do you want?"

"Crash. . . " Quinn whispered again, "Somethings wrong with Brandon. . . " His voice was low, as if he didn't want anyone to be able to hear him.

"What's wrong?" Asked Crash, leaning up, alert.

"He's . . ." And then Crash heard it. He could hear Brandon banging, then the hard jiggle of a door knob. "He just started to come after me. . . "

Crash could hear the fear in Quinn's voice. His breathing was shallow and shaky.

"Where are you right now?" Asked Crash, getting up from the sofa and grabbing his keys off the counter.

"I can still smell you." Threatened Brandon, loud enough for Crash to hear him.

"I'm hiding in the bathroom. . . "

"Just stay there."

* * * * * *

Crash sped over to Brandon's apartment, letting himself in. Brandon thankfully gave him a key a few years back, so that was one less thing he would have to potentially break tonight.

Quinn tucked himself down low in the tub, holding the only thing he found that would be any good as a weapon against Brandon if he got in. He didn't know why he felt if he could be quiet enough that Brandon would somehow forget that he was in there.

The sound of his own heart pounding drowned out everything around him. Quinn didn't even hear Crash let himself in. Trying to focus on slowing his breathing kept his attention so he didn't have to think about what would happen if Brandon did get in. His dark eyes jerked in the direction of the door as it started to open, and he jumped up and readied himself.

"Woah. It's me." Yelled Crash as Quinn swung at him, blocking the metal toilet paper holder with his forearm before he ripped it from Quinn, "Really?" He stated, tossing it to the ground where it belonged.

"It was the only thing in here." Said Quinn as he leaned to look around Crash for Brandon, "Where is he?"

"He's fine." Said Crash as he stepped closer to Quinn, "Did he do that?" Asked Crash, reaching out for Quinn's arm. He was bleeding and had been for a while now. The sweet scent of his fear pushed out, and the smell of his blood filled the small bathroom and was now fogging Crash's head as he stood there.

Quinn had all but forgotten that Brandon hit him. Well, more like swiped at him, his nails catching and cutting.

"I said he came after me." Spoke Quinn, leaning away from Crash's touch, happy when he didn't press to take a closer look.

"Did you make sure he ate?"

"Did I make sure he ate? What the fuck do I look like? He's a grown fucking man. . . " Rambled off Quinn.

Crash ran his hands over the front of his face, "I should have checked on him sooner."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Asked Quinn, lost and confused while also coming down from the panic he had been in. "Where is he?" He asked, pushing past Crash.

Everything had gone quiet. Brandon was no longer pacing the apartment or banging on the door. Quinn stopped short at the sight he saw once he stepped out of the bathroom. Brandon was crouched down in the corner. His hands and face covered in blood as he tore into what looked to be a huge piece of raw meat.

"What the actual hell!" Exclaimed Quinn, loud enough to get Brandon's attention, who stopped chewing and began growling, dropping the wet meat onto the floor.

"Mine." Braked Crash out of nowhere, stepping in front of Quinn, protecting.

Quinn stood quiet as the two of them stared each other down for several seconds before Brandon gave in and went back to eating.

"He's just hungry and confused." Explained Crash as if it was nothing.

"He's confused. I'm fucking confused." Said Quinn, even louder than before.

"Will you be quiet for five minutes?" Threatened Crash, looking at Quinn. He needed time to think as a knock came on the door. The fuck now, thought Crash as he moved to the door looking through the peephole. "Did you call the cops?"

"I called you." Whispered Quinn harshly, offended Crash would think he would do such a thing. Cops were the last thing they needed.

Crash quickly pulled off his leather cut, tossing it on the back of the chair behind him. Cops didn't take kindly to anyone in a gang.

"Can I help you?" Asked Crash as he opened the door slightly, stepping into the gap he made.

"We got a call." Stated the cop, stepping to the side and trying to see around Crash in the doorway, "Actually, a few calls."

Crash just looked at him, shaking his head, playing oblivious.

"Calls said there sounded like screaming coming from this apartment."

Crash shook his head again, laughing. "I mean. Some of the boys were over earlier for the game. A few of them got a little heated when the score wasn't going in their favor, but that's about it."

He could tell the cop wasn't buying what he was trying to sell.

"I'll make sure they keep it down next time."

The cop huffed but nodded. "Next time, no noise complaints." He stated, shifting his weight, still trying to get a look around Crash but wasn't going to get one.

Crash flashed him a quick smile and shut the door, watching through the peephole for him to leave. He even waited till he heard the bing of the elevator door open before he stepped back.

"How much did you scream before you called me." Crash wasn't asking but making a statement.

"I didn't scream." Commented Quinn, in his defense.