Handling situations like this had never been a strong suit for Brandon. He seriously had the sensitivity of a steroid enhanced gorilla, on his best day, so he wasn't really that good at knowing what to say when push came to shove. Push was at shove here and he was proving himself right beyond a shadow of a doubt once again.
But when she called herself dumb he shook his head. "I don't believe that," he said, serious. Normally, he'd be quick to call anyone who'd walk out in a fucking smasher infested wasteland an idiot, but he didn't think Maddie was an idiot. "Takes a certain amount of brains to call for help when you need it, for one." Brandon knew more than his fair share of people who'd just try and wait it out—be too proud to involve anyone else even if it was the smart thing to do. He was one of them, actually. "For two, I just don't think you're that dumb."
Brandon had genuinely thought he'd have to push harder to get a real answer out of her, so when she so willingly offered one with barely any prodding, he was pretty pleased with himself. But he just didn't understand what would drive someone to put their life at risk for a fucking keyboard. Baffled the shit out of him.
Once they were on the roof, he reached into his pack for a first aid kit and rifled through it for the rubbing alcohol to wipe the blood under her nose and clean the blood from his hand, which had taken until right now to start throbbing painfully. Yup. Punch a door, that's usually what happens. All the while, he was waiting for an answer, which wasn't coming instantly.
He was about to ask her again, when he noticed that she was crying. He stuffed the alcohol pads into his pocket and shook his head no. "Hey. Hey, don't do that," he said, stepping forward and watching as she turned around. "Don't, all right? Everyone makes mistakes. Fuck, my own sister dubbed me the Earl of Bad Decisions," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Putting his hand—the one that wasn't busted up—on her shoulder, he turned her around and leaned down to catch her gaze, giving her a weak smile. "And I'm glad you called me, okay? World's full of people I can't stand. It'd suck to lose one of the people I can." He hoped that sounded comforting. Or something. Fuck he sucked at this.
"But next time? Maybe call me beforehand, okay? I'll come with you, if you're so determined to go. Maybe we can avoid this." He reached his good hand into his pocket and took out one of the wrapped alcohol pads. "Here. Lemme get rid of some of that blood, okay?"