Man Up (A Brendon Urie/Brallon Fanfiction)

Chapter 24

Whether near or far, I am always yours.

Pete's PoV

It was a pretty service. He would have been proud of that. A steady drizzle washes over the cemetery. I tighten my grip on Patrick's hand and try to keep my crying as quiet as possible. Stay strong for Brendon.

The priest stops talking and looks to Patrick, who glances nervously at me. I nod at him and he steps forward shakily, slipping his hand out of mine. He clears his throat and starts to sing 'My Way' by Frank Sinatra. It's one of Brendon's favourites, or, it was, anyway. It's so fitting. The song is Sinatra saying "fuck yeah, I lived, and I did it how I wanted to" and it's so Brendon.

I close my eyes and listen to Patrick's shaky, yet still so beautiful voice. Someone takes my hand and squeezes it, which I return without even thinking. It's Dallon, who looks like he hasn't slept since that night in the hospital. He leans his head on my shoulder, and I rest mine on top of his. We both watch and listen to Patrick. Eventually, he comes to the end of the song, finishing on a gentle note before stepping back beside me. I know if it was appropriate to clap at a funeral everyone would be cheering for him. For his strength.

The priest nods to Patrick in thanks and he grips onto my hand again. There's a creak, before the coffin starts lowering into the ground.

Dallon lets out a sob. "Don't. They can't put him down there." He whispers. "He's too young. Please."

Dallon doesn't care that people are staring at him. He wants Brendon. That's all he needs. I watch him clutch at the wilting flower in his hand, whispering to it. There's a small thud as the coffin hits the bottom of the hole. I feel tears falling down my cheeks. Dallon throws the flower onto it with a choked sob.

"I'm sorry, Brendon. I'm so sorry. I love you so much."

I turn him away and pull him into a hug. I want Dallon to pull away from this first, because I don't know how long he's going to need it. I rub his damp back and whisper pathetic reassurance in his ears. He cries hard into my shoulder.

"I don't know how I'm going to live without him now." He sobs, shivering. I look up, watching Brendon's relatives walking solemnly away from the cemetery and back into the building. Eventually, it's just me, Dallon, Patrick, and Brendon's close family. They all throw a small handful of soil onto the coffin, before retreating inside.

"Dallon, you have to stay strong now, okay? Brendon's life was a rollercoaster of love and hate, and now he's gone, we have to carry on the love, without letting it destroy us. Let me know if that made any sense." I say with a sad chuckle, which he returns.

"Not really," he hiccups.

"You know what I meant. Brendon wouldn't want you mourning your life away now, would he? Don't think about the Brendon towards the end. That Brendon had so much pain... so much hurt. Think about the Brendon you fell in love with, yeah?"

He nods weakly. I place my hand on his chest.

"It's never going to stop hurting in here, Dallon. In your chest. That's where it gets real tight until you can't breathe. You just deal with the pain because that's what's best for you, and for Brendon. You're strong, Dallon. You can do this."

"I can't... Pete. I don't know how."

"You do. He'd be so proud of you, Dallon. So fucking proud."