Man Up (A Brendon Urie/Brallon Fanfiction)

Chapter 23

I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall.

Dallon's PoV

I play with my hands to distract myself from any of the thoughts clouding my mind. It's 3am and I can barely keep my eyes open. I never thought I'd be back in this hospital, but here we are. I look round to my friends, the only ones in this small waiting room, my eyes swimming with more tears. The skin on my face is finally starting to dry – I can't cry again.

The image of the firemen pulling Brendon's body from the blackened bus plays back in my mind again and I let out a choked sob. I feel someone pulling me into a hug. I sink into Pete wearily.

"It's okay, he's going to be okay, I promise." Pete whispers, rubbing my back. He lets me go and I lean against him.

"I love him, Pete. I love him so much." I mumble. "I have to tell him I love him."

"He knows, Dallon, he knows."

No, Pete, he doesn't. He hates me. He hates you. He hates all of us. I sometimes think the real Brendon's in there, but it's not. That is the real Brendon. He hates us.

Yet none of that stops me being hopelessly in love with him. Fuck, I'm so stupid.

I only have to think about his face, and my insides warm up and I start smiling stupidly. I think everything he says is so clever and well thought out. I want him to stop hurting, so I can slip a ring on his finger and spend the rest of my life with him.

Pete sighs and goes back to Patrick.

The double doors on one side of the room swing open, and Brendon's family burst into the room.

"Where is he?" Brendon's mom, Grace, chokes out, eyes flickering round the room.

"They're operating on him now." Pete mumbles. They all look to me and I cover my face with my hands, trying to stop crying. Brendon's family sit around me and we hug one another. Without even thinking about it, Grace takes my hand. I look to her and shake my head.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I tried to look after him, I tried—"

"You did all you could." She says, staring straight forward.

I didn't do enough.

I look to the clock on the wall. 3:34am. They've been with him for two hours. Surely he's alright now.

After another half an hour of agonised silence and chugging plastic cups of water, a doctor comes in. Our heads snap up in his direction. He looks round at the room, and I see beads of sweat on his forehead. Avoiding any of our eyes, he looks back to the floor.

"Well?" I say, standing up too quickly. Brendon's mom tries to pull me back down, but I take a step towards him. He presses his lips together and takes a deep breath in and out.

"I'm sorry..." he starts.

Everything slows down.

"His body went into shock. We couldn't..."

No.

Brendon's mother starts sobbing. The doctor stops talking for a few seconds. He licks his lips and swallows.

"He died on the operating table. I'm so, so sorry."

"No. He's not... he can't..."

"Everything was burnt, he couldn't have survived regardless. Dallon, I'm so sorry... I—"

"He's gone." I whisper. I can't believe it. I refuse to believe it. My heart hammers in my chest and quickly becomes the only thing I can hear. Everyone tries to talk to me but their voices are so muffled. I open my mouth, and try to find the words to describe how I feel. There's so many, but I can't find one. I wonder if there's a specific word that describes me feeling like my entire chest has collapsed in on myself.

This isn't all about you, Dallon.

I look to Brendon's family, sobbing, hugging one another. I look to my friends, people who've known Brendon for years and years, sat staring motionlessly, beyond the point of crying. I look to the huge double doors and wait for the old Brendon to bound through them with a smile on his face.

He's dead. Brendon's dead.

No. It's not true.

He's Brendon.

He's too strong.

I shudder, unable to stop crying hideously.

Brendon, come back, please.

Fuck, I can't do this without you.