♡Sweetheart♡ ||Brendon Urie x Reader||

Chapter 22

Hello my friends
I'm here
Don't worry

I ran as fast as I could, my gown restricting me and my destination unclear. I knew who I had to go see, but I didn't know if I should.

I was conflicted. I was confused.

I couldn't go to my dad; he had just gotten into a fight with Brendon. I couldn't go to Lu; God knows where she is. Brett was gone searching for his mother.

And where did that leave me? Toppling over myself in a desperate attempt to find someone—anyone—who can bring Brendon back to normal.

I didn't mean "normal" as in his perverted personality, either. He proved himself that was a facade. I know I've seen the real Brendon, or at least a shadow of the real Brendon. He's so much more than he makes himself out to be.

I couldn't help but look around helplessly as soon as I was back out in the party hall. Lexi, Meagan, and Lily couldn't help me because they didn't know Brendon. Then who? Who?

I got a tap on my shoulder. I whipped around, fully alert.

"Ah, pardon me if I frightened you," Dallon took a step back, a little worried about scaring me. "I noticed you seem stressed. What's the matter?"

I stared up at him. He knew Brendon. Dallon knew Brendon. I didn't know how well, but he knew him. I didn't have any other options. Brendon could have run off, hurt himself, done something by now, and I wasn't willing to waste anymore time.

Grabbing Dallon's hand, I pulled him into the corridor I had just run out of, kicking off my shoes. I couldn't care less about what was on my feet.

He didn't ask any questions as he ran with me. I gave a silent whisper of thanks for that. I couldn't answer any questions in the state I was in—in the state Brendon was in.

However, when we got back to Brendon, he was standing up, the only support to his body being the wall he was leaning against. He tiredly glanced in my direction, eyed up my shoulder, the heart mark, and winced.

Then his eyes met Dallon's.

"Mr. Urie," Dallon spoke in acknowledgment. He stood, smiling softly, waiting.

It was common courtesy to have the gesture returned. To have a phrase spoken. A nod exchanged. Brendon said nothing. Brendon did nothing. He moved not.

"Bren. . ." his eyes closed like it brought him pain to hear my voice, ". . .don."

Dallon sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose, displaying annoyance for the first time I had ever seen. "Stand back, Miss. I'll handle him." He spoke with a smile, and I complied, but as soon as he turned back to Brendon his features became annoyed and he slipped off his gloves and pocketed them.

It was gone as soon as it came. A slap to Brendon's face. His unwavering expression frustrated the taller man. Another slap. Another. Another. I yelped every time, not sure how to react. I couldn't make out his intentions.

I didn't have any time to process what Dallon had said next.

"Come on, Brendon. This would always work when we were kids." I couldn't tell if Dallon was genuinely enjoying his time hurting Brendon or if the repeated slapping was just a pitiful display of Dallon feeling as helpless as I did. As if one slap later he would fall out of his trance and we would all laugh.

Suddenly, the blows stopped. Brendon had grabbed ahold of Dallon's arm forcefully, halting any movement. "We aren't kids anymore, Dal," he said, no emotion except the glint of anger in his eyes.

Dallon responded with yet another sigh and threw off his suit jacket. "It's a pity. This suit was new."

I was prepared to laugh. A joke. A joke, right? If what they said was true, they knew each other as kids. They were playing. Joking around.

But I knew this was no child's play when Dallon opened the door next to us and threw me into it, locking the door from the outside with a key.

"What kind of fucking room locks from the outside!" I yelled, banging on the walls, screaming. No response. I turned on the light and saw a toilet. A sink.

It was a bathroom.

All bathrooms are sound proof in the Urie households.

I kept screaming uselessly. I yelled, hoping I could get my voice heard to someone.

I needed to know what was going on outside. I needed to know if Brendon was safe. If Dallon was safe. Why was Dallon acting like this?

By the time I had located an object to bludgeon down the door, the hall was empty, not a person in sight. All that was left was Dallon's crumpled up suit jacket and the pristine marble floor dotted with blood. 

Big oof

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