Into the darkness and warmth of the earth
We lay you down
Into the sadness and smiles of our memories
We lay you down
May you rest in peace, in fulfillment, in loving
May you run straight home in God's embrace.
It wasn't Sarah who shed the most tears at Brendon's funeral, nor was it Dallon or Spencer. It was Ryan. His walls quickly came crumbling down the moment he saw the open casket. Spencer's arms wound tightly around him, he caved in. Sobbing brokenly, he couldn't stand up to read his speech. So Dallon read it for him,
As I sleep you roam through my mind
Sweet loving best friend of mine.
I close my eyes as soon
you will be there
to hold my hand and stroke my hair.
You take away my pain and all my fears
You bring me laughter then bring me tears
I have no doubts and I'm never scared
just knowing the fact that you will soon be here
You gave me strength when I had I none
you gave me courage when the day was done
you will always be in this heart of mine
My best friend till the end of time......
That broke most people, Dallon struggling to trudge through the end of the poem. It wasn't the best thing Ryan had ever written. He hadn't been able to concentrate properly on anything since waking up from surgery.
Thousands of fans had been allowed into the funeral, allowed to sit behind family and friends of the fallen Brendon Urie. Everybody seemed to unite. Patrick, Pete, Joe, Andy, Ryan, Jon, Spencer, Dallon, Ian, Gerard, Mikey, Frank, Ray, Hayley, pretty much anybody that had ever heard of him was there. They all took their turn to read out a speech. They all took their turn to open their barriers to emotion. To cry.
Sarah stepped up to the the alter, her trembling hands gripping tightly on to her speech. A passage from the bible. Her mascara had been tarnished with sorrow,
To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboreth?
I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it. He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.
I know that there is no good in them, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life. And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labor, it is the gift of God. I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be for ever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it, that men should fear before him.
That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past.
She managed to compose her self by the end, standing straight and sitting back in the peers. Spencer pulled her close in a hug, stroking her hair supportively.
Patrick chose to sing him a song, a slowed down version of one of Brendon's favourites.
Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world
She took the midnight train goin' anywhere
Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit
He took the midnight train goin' anywhere
A singer in a smokey room
A smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on
Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlights people, living just to find emotion
Hiding, somewhere in the night.
Working hard to get my fill,
Everybody wants a thrill
Payin' anything to roll the dice,
Just one more time
Some will win, some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues
Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on
Don't stop believin'
Hold on to the feelin'
Streetlights people
Don't stop believin'
Hold on
Streetlight people
Don't stop believin'
Hold on to the feelin'
Streetlights people
Other people read poems, read personal speeches, and then the coffin was carried off. Buried. Ryan spent hours by his grave side, sobbing. He brought a guitar, and though the rain beat hard against his skin, he began to play.
A song that would have made Brendon smile. The last song Brendon ever sung to him. The last song Brendon ever heard.
The last song Brendon ever would hear.
YOU ARE READING
What a Catch! (Panic! At The Disco fanfiction )
FanfictionWhy did Panic! At the Disco really go there separate ways? I mean, I know they wanted to head down different musical routes, but was something else hidden in this decision? 4 years after the split, Ryan and Brendon meet up again, but now they have t...
