Panic! At The Mafia//Brendon Urie

Chapter 9

I would consider Brendon my father. I mean, he treats me like I'm his kid. Plus, I've never had a dad, and Brendon's the closest thing to it.

I was still sleeping in the front seat of the car, after the stressful day I had yesterday. Brendon chuckled and picked me up, watching as I snuggled into his chest. He held a tight grip on me, and kicked at the door to the bunker. I was obviously half asleep.

"Who is it?! State your name and business!" Yelled Dallon.

"Brendon Urie, former prison inmate." I heard the door open and a few gasps.

"And that's-"

"Faelecia, yes!" Brendon cut him off.

"Well I see prison hasn't changed your attitude." Dallon commented. Brendon just chuckled and walked in.

"Never," he snickered.

"Glad to have you back, Urie!" Weekes cheered.

"What's going on, Dallon?" I heard Kenny's voice chime.

"Urie and Faelecia are back." Dallon told him.

"Lord! How?!" Kenny rejoiced. Brendon continued to walk, saying hello to Dan as he walked by.

"Hey! What the hell?!" Dan laughed. Brendon chuckled and replied with,

"I escaped from prison and broke Faelecia out of the psychiatric ward." Dan chuckled once more and said goodbye to Brendon.

"I'll talk to you men once I put Faelecia to bed." He continued to walk and placed me in my bed.

"Goodnight, Faelecia..." He kissed my cheek. I stirred and gripped onto one of the pillows, moaning in comfort.

~~~

In the morning, I woke up totally refreshed. Brendon was at his desk, biting on the cap of his pen.

"Good morning!" I groaned. Brendon turned around on his stool and smiled.

"Good morning! How'd you sleep?" He wondered.

"It was good! I overheard a bit of your doorway conversation with the guys." I giggled. Brendon ran his hand through his hair, looking back at his work.

"So..." Brendon started, turning back around on the stool. "I was maybe thinking of giving you some therapy to counter-back all that happened in the past six months. Because you deserve better."

"B-but you're not a real therapist." I looked down at my fingers. I stopped biting them because I wasn't stressed anymore. All of that is about to change...

"Yes, but I mean, what do you do? Ask questions, write down answers and give advice?" He scoffed.

"Wow, you must really hate therapists," I commented.

"Nah, just don't give a medical degree to someone who has the easiest job in the world." He refuted. 

"Well I mean, who do I trust? The man who kidnapped me from my home or an actual therapist?" I pondered, keeping my voice quiet. 

"You've been damn distant since I came to rescue you. What's the matter?" He asked, coming closer.

"Nothing!" I snapped. Brendon grabbed me by the wrist and picked me up from my bed.

"Stop!" I yelled. Brendon sighed and covered my mouth, slamming the door shut.

"So, I save you and this is the thanks I get? Being given attitude?" Brendon boomed. I cowered back and felt as he let my wrist fall.

"This is why! You're so rough with me!" I cried.

"When have I ever been rough with you?" He questioned, standing right in front of me. 

"You stomped on my foot when we first met, you've yelled at me several times, and you grabbed my wrist just now," I stated. Brendon rolled his eyes and gave me his hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm just under a lot of pressure. The police are looking for you and I and then you're still unsure of where you stand. It's a lot to handle after five months, y'know?" He stood on my feet and stuck his hands out to me. I grabbed them and watched as he pulled me up, and into a hug.

"I love you..." he rubbed my back. I wiped my tears off on his shirt, and replied with,

"I love you too!" 

Brendon broke the hug and planted a kiss on my lips. "Are you still up for the therapy?" 

I nodded and walked out of the room, accidentally running into Dallon.

"I am so sorry!" I apologized. Dallon chuckled and wrapped his arms around me.

"Hey, haven't seen you in a while, kiddo! How's your leg?" He questioned.

"Great! Thanks for asking!" I smiled. Dallon let go of the hug and looked behind me. I turned around and saw Brendon with his arms crossed, practically fuming.

"May I speak to you, Weekes? In private." Brendon grit his teeth. Dallon sent me a smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. Dallon chuckled before adding,

"Hopefully these aren't my last words,"