Asylum (A Brendon Urie Fanfiction)

When You Stuff All Of Your Feelings With Drugs

"So, what did you get?" I questioned awkwardly, trying to avert my gaze from Brendon, who's staring wasn't at all helping. Before the doctor -who I had never even met before today- could begin explaining, my body slumped tiredly onto one of the red plastic chairs that were situated beside the bed that Brendon lay on, before my legs completely gave way underneath me.

"First of all, my name's Jason. Nice to meet you," the doctor smiled slightly, making his way over to me and outstretching his hand. Reaching out, I shook it with mine.

"Likewise."

Jason slowly paced around to the other side of the bed, taking a seat opposite me, then noticably sighed before telling me what had happened to Brendon.

"As soon as I ran the first test, it was obvious that something's wrong," Jason grimaced, "Brendon's heart rate was ridiculously fast, and although he could have just had a schizophrenic experience and hadn't fully recovered from it as of then... I had to run more tests to be sure."

Jason dodged around the bed once again, then took a seat to my left and sent me an almost sad glance before continuing.

"I found an abnormally high amount of a neurotransmitter called dopamine within Brendon. Are you aware of what neurotransmitters are?"

Shaking my head, I stared at him to signal my need for an explanation. I had heard of neurotransmitters, but I had no idea what they actually did, what they were used for, or what effects they had on the human body.

"They're basically the reason that our bodies function, to put it simply. Neurotransmitters are the chemical substances that communicate information around our bodies and brains by sending signals between nerve cells called neurons. For example, the brain uses neurotransmitters to tell our heart to beat, our stomachs to digest foods, and many other things. Without neurotransmitters; well quite frankly, we'd all be dead."

"Sorry, but I'm not seeing the problem," I frowned, not having taken in most of his explanation since it was so confusing, "If dopamine is a neurotransmitter or whatever, and neurotransmitters basically are the reason we're all alive, why is it bad to have a high amount of it? Doesn't that just make you extra healthy or something?"

"There's a high amount of dopamine, and then there's too much dopamine," Jason sighed, "The latter can't be caused naturally. It has to be injected. That's obviously what happened to Brendon," he pointed at the brown-haired man, who was staring down at the ground blankly while idly picking at the fabric covering the bed he sat on.

As much as it all added up, I still wasn't convinced. How could such a good thing end up destroying you?

"What exactly does too much dopamine do then?" I inquired, mentally deciding it was my mission to decipher who had performed this inhuman act on an innocent man.

"It has various effects on the human body, an increased heart rate being one of them," Jason began, reminding me instantly of how he had notified me as soon as I entered the room of Brendon's extreme heart rate, "but then there's the actually damaging problems. Too much dopamine can be the cause of anxiety, stress, paranoia, impulsive behavior, insomnia, and even schizophrenia. Unsurprisingly, it all matches up with what Brendon was officially diagnosed with during his ER scan."

I didn't want to believe Jason. I really didn't. All I wanted was for my sudden realization to have been wrong, and walk in to find out that Brendon was actually naturally mentally ill. But he wasn't, and I had been right. Brendon had in fact been framed, and here he was, even believing himself that he was crazy.

"So, what next?" I asked, pulling myself together at the thought that maybe I could help Brendon, "We could just extract the extra dopamine from his system. Then all of his symptoms and diagnosed disorders would go away, and he could go home."