The Agent

11

A/N: For the birthday child, Bobbi! Happy birthday m'dear laddie

Brendon woke up before Ryan the next morning. Sunlight filled the room and he watched the little dust particles float around the room. He looked over at Ryan and smiled down at the perfect man lying beside him. Trying not to wake him, he gently wiggled his way out of the bed and re-covered Ryan's bare chest. He looked around and found some boxers and a pair of pajama pants that he was sure Ryan wouldn't care if he wore them. He stepped out of the bedroom and shuffled his way into the living room, running a hand through his hair. He sat down on the couch and picked up the remote, turning the TV on and yawning again.

"Breaking news! There's been yet anothermurder in the Chelsea Pines case." A picture of the victim flashed onto the screen, and just like that, Brendon's heart dropped. Everything around him stopped and all he could hear was the name he's been dreading to hear this entire time. Sarah Orzechowski. The room spun, and next thing he knew, he was on the ground with a throbbing in the back of his head. As his vision blurred, he saw Ryan's worried face hovering over him, heard him calling his name. He managed to croak out a quick "Ry," before everything went black.

When he opened his eyes next, it wasn't Ryan's face he saw, it was Dallon's.

"Hello, Urie." Brendon sat up slowly and rubbed the back of his head. He looked around quickly.

"When did I get to the hospital?" he asked.

"A few hours ago. You really hit your head."

"Thanks, captain obvious." He winced in pain and reached over to the little table next to him and grabbed a small cup of water. Dallon put his hands in his pockets and sat down in the chair across from his bed. "So Sarah's dead, isn't she."

Dallon sighed and looked at Brendon. The bags under his eyes were darker than Brendon could remember. "Yeah, she is. I'm sorry, Brendon."

"It's fine. I'm fine. But thank you."

"Those stitches in your head would care to disagree." Brendon chuckled and put the cup down.

"Where's Ryan?"

"Not sure. He wasn't here when I arrived." He took a small notebook out. "So you're sure he was in the room with you all night?"

Brendon glared at Dallon with daggers in his eyes. "For the last time, and with all due respect, Agent Weekes, don't you ask me one more motherfucking time if 'I'm sure' Ryan was with me somewhere. I'm fucking done with this." His voice strained the more he continued talking. "You have nothing to prove that Ryan is even related to this case at all," he hissed. He pointed towards the door with a shaky hand. "Now please, kindly, get your ass out of here." Dallon threw his hands up in surrender and stood up as Ryan walked into the room. He had two cookies, a little stuffed bear and a DVD case in his hands. He looked at Dallon with confusion and beamed as he saw that Brendon was awake. His smile disappeared as he saw the expression on both men's faces.

"Is everything okay in here?" he asked.

"Everything's fine. I was just leaving anyway. Feel better soon, Mr. Urie." He left the room and Ryan put everything down on the table. He sat on the end of Brendon's bed. He placed a hand on Brendon's leg and smiled.

"Hey there."

Brendon smiled weakly. "Hey."

"How're you feeling? You hit your head really fucking hard."

"It hurts like shit, honestly." Ryan chuckled and Brendon motioned for him to lay on the bed next to him. He curled his arms around Brendon and kissed his forehead.

"I'm sorry about Sarah."

"Who told you?"

"Well, I kind of guessed you knew her since that was what was on the news when you passed out. And then one of the FBI agents, Smith, I think, told me about her." Brendon nodded and rested his head against Ryan's arm. "You're gonna look so badass with that scar on your head."

Brendon laughed and reached over to pick up the cookies. He passed one to Ryan and took a bite out of his own. Ryan sat up and helped Brendon up too and the doctor came in.

"It's nice to see you're up, Brendon. Thankfully, there's no brain damage but you have a small concussion. You're all stitched up and ready to go home in a few hours."

"Thanks, doc." The doctor smiled and left the room.

They spent the next two hours watching the first Paranormal Activity movie and cuddling on the small hospital bed together. And then, Ryan drove him back to their apartment.

"I'm gonna nurse the shit outta you," Ryan announced, getting Brendon settled on the couch.

"Y'know what'd really make me feel better? If you wore a little candy striper outfit." He wiggled his eyebrows at Ryan, who in return, flipped him off and went into the bedroom to get something.

"Want me to stop by your place and get you some shit?"

"Well sir, that'd be swell." Ryan came back into the room with a duffel bag and planted a kiss on Brendon's lips.

"I'll be back in a little bit." Brendon nodded and Ryan left. He put on TBS and decided to watch a Friends marathon. After an episode, his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Urie? It's Agent Weekes."

"If you're calling to interrogate me again, I'm not in the mood."

There was a sigh from the other side of the line. "The agency just wanted to send you their condolences. And I'm sorry for being such an ass towards Ryan. I know you love him."

"That means a lot, Dallon. Thank you. And I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"You do know he's going to find out that you're an agent eventually, right?"

Brendon shifted uncomfortably about the thought. "Yeah, I know. We've really built something there, Dallon. It'll be fine."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

"If he finds out and freaks the fuck out, you have the right to say 'I told you so'. Alright?"

"If who finds out what?" Brendon turned his head to the door and saw Ryan standing there with the duffle bag over his shoulder and a bag of take-out in one hand.

"Um, I have to go now. Bye."

A/N: I think this fic is ending soon and I'm sad yet proud okay cool k bye Bobbi y'happy now?♥