I'm Just Passing The Time (Peterick Stripper AU)

Hearts Beating Faster, Faster (Pete's POV)

I ran down the streets as fast as I could. I bumped into several less than thrilled people, but I could care less with what I knew was happening.

When I made it to Dallon's door, I checked for people on the street before I reached down and pulled out my gun. I turned the doorknob and quickly slipped inside.

It was just like Max's place. Tables were broken, glass was shattered, and there was blood spots on the floor. My eyes scanned the room for anyone. I slid my foot along the floor to avoid crunching any glass.

I heard a low groan, turning my head to a dark corner of the room. I could see legs sticking out, so I changed my direction towards it. As I got closer, I could make out Dallon's figure. He was laying on the ground with his eyes closed, but his head moving slightly. There was blood trailing down his face from somewhere under his hairline and his shirt was a bit torn up, but he still seemed to be alive.

"Dallon." I whispered, tapping his cheek. He groaned again, but didn't open his eyes. I tried tapping his cheek again to no avail. "Just don't die..." I muttered, patting his chest and rising to my feet. I began walking over to the bar that lead to the lower room.

I felt my heart sink at the splintered wood that was where the once secret hatch was. I stepped closer, holding my gun steady. I peaked inside, seeing no one, and carefully began my decent down the stairs.

Voices could be heard, but I couldn't make out their words. I walked down the steps carefully, making sure to keep my gun up the entire way down. Near the bottom, I could begin to make out what was being said.

"Two behind the counter and two behind a curtain. Any others?" A laughing voice asked. I didn't recognize him, but I did recognize the voice that came next.

"No more. We're all that's here." Patrick responded. I heard him cry out in pain, causing the grip on my gun to tighten.

"Don't lie to me, pretty boy!"

"Jaime! Calm yourself." That voice I recognized as Vic. I was at the bottom of the stairs now, inching closer to the door. "This one is good, don't bruise him up too much."

"What did you guys do to Dallon?" Spencer demanded.

"Nothing of your concern." Another different voice replied, "Why don't you just get useful and make us some drinks?"

The door was slightly ajar, allowing me to peak inside, unnoticed. There were two standing within my sight. Both covered in tattoos, one wearing a bowler hat, and the other had short brown hair with light stubble on his face. One was holding a gun while the one in the hat was looking off at something I couldn't see.

"Who are you?" He pointed at something out of my view.

"Whoever are you talking about?" Brendon's voice responded smartly. He cried out in pain and was suddenly in my view, being held by his hair by someone with black poofed out hair.

"This the one, Tony?" The one with black hair laughed, obviously enjoying Brendon's look of pain. I could barely make out Brendon's stripper being held by the man's other hand.

"Fuck off!" Brendon growled, crying out again when the dark haired man tightened his grip on his hair.

"Mister Brendon!" The Hershey eyes cried out fearfully.

Tony's eyes grew wide. "Brendon. Brendon Urie?"

"Am I that famous?" Brendon grinned through his pain.

Tony shook his head. "You are betrothed to my girl." He said, leaning into Brendon's face. "You're the one and this is where you spend your time?"

"It wasn't us that made the decision of betrothal." Brendon said, grinning at Tony. "That's why we were leaving." He nodded his head in the direction of the stripper.