When she finally left, Max slumped to the ground, finally letting his body collapse into a puddle of skin and pain. He could feel the bruises forming, and her threats were equally painful. After all, she wouldn't be just going after him. He was a two-for-one, and the one was innocent. This had to just go away.
After a few minutes of laying on the ground, trying to pull himself together, he finally managed to stand and lumber towards the stairs. Not daring to touch the elevator, he began to climb, hunched over with pain as he went. Every step was agony, but he finally reached the third floor and stumbled into Brian's apartment.
He tore open the freezer and made a makeshift icepack. The most important thing was the face. He swaggered over to the bed and collapsed on it, pressing the icepack to his left cheek and closing his eyes. They burned, but he had to keep this icepack on. He couldn't be bothered by washing his eyes out when the burning would just fade in a few hours. Brian would never feel it. But if he didn't keep this ice on, the bruise would be bigger, and Brian would feel that.
Max wasn't sure how long he stayed conscious. An hour? Two? His eyes still burned like hot coals when he finally fell asleep, and his last thought was clinging to the hope that this icepack could keep the swelling down.