Lost in the middle of nowhere

𝗪𝗔𝗜𝗧 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗖𝗞

✧ ✧ ✧

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and Brendon has now been living in Louisiana for eight months. It almost feels like his time in LA was like he had been living someone else's life. It has been peaceful without Ryan and spending the majority of his time with Dallon. Some of his time is divided between some of the few people he felt were actually worth his time. It felt like home to him, someplace he truly felt welcome and at peace. Brendon even found two part-time jobs even though Dallon said there was no need to. It wasn't always easy in the last eight months, Depression and the feeling of being useless were big problems for Brendon, yet Dallon was consistently there to brighten Brendon's day. It wasn't always easy. There were days that Brendon barely spoke to Dallon, let alone anyone, and that made it kind of hard for the both of them. Becoming dependent on each other's presence also made it challenging and even a little awkward.

The thought of Ryan rarely crossed his mind since he's been living with Dallon, but there has been one thought that he can't shake. 'Why hasn't he come back?' Ryan hardly ever went against his threats, let alone something like this. Ryan never left Brendon alone. Has he finally died, did the mafia debt collectors finally catch up to him since he no longer had Brendon's money? It honestly didn't matter anymore. Brendon was finally free from the abusive bastard that he once called a lover. Although, he does miss a big part of his past life. Kaylee.

Dallon had thought Brendon was mad at him for the majority of the day due to his silent nature, but then again, Brendon hardly spoke unless spoken to, and that made Dallon get lost in his thoughts as they drove home. The cab of his truck was completely silent aside from their breathing, the vibration of the muffler, and a soft purr coming from Brendon. Perhaps his thoughts weren't all that bad, or at least that's what Dallon hoped. eight months wasn't that long to some people and a lifetime to others, Yet it didn't feel like either of those to Dallon. It couldn't feel like that to him, because it felt like he had known Brendon his whole life.

They were brought out of their thoughts when the ole red beat-up truck reached the driveway. The living room light was brightly shining, even though they remembered turning it off before they left. The front door was ajar, even though both men remember locking it before getting in the truck. "What's going on?" Brendon whispered although he knew the intruder couldn't hear him. "I'm not sure, babe. Were we expecting company?" Dallon sarcastically asked as he threw the truck in park, and left it running just in case they needed a quick getaway. Ryan never crossed their minds, but it could be anyone. Someone harmless, or it could be an intruder that wished them harm. It was a 50/50 chance it could be either one of those, and Dallon didn't like those odds. "Wait in the truck, Brendon," Dallon said firmly, not leaving any room for negotiation. "If I'm not back in five minutes, take the truck and go find Joe. That is an order."

Brendon didn't have time to reply, Dallon quickly grabbed his shotgun from the gun rack that hung on his back window, and quickly got out of the truck, leaving the door open in means of another quick getaway. He cocks the firearm with one hand while walking up the stairs, warning whoever might be in the house waiting for them. Dallon slowly steps through the door, firearm raised just in case the idjit decides to come at him from somewhere in the house. "Vous have cinq seconds to show your face before it gets blown off." Dallon's Cajun accent frequently appears thicker under extreme stress or surprise, and he was waiting for both of those.

"PLEASE! Don't shoot!" A woman's voice rang through the quiet home. "I - I'm looking for Brendon, Brendon Urie. I was told I could find him here. Please." The woman still didn't show her face and kept hiding.

"Je don't know where vous got your information from, mai je don't know anyone by that nom,"

(I don't know where you got your information from, but I don't know anyone by that name.)