Drive (Brendon Urie/P!ATD FanFic ft. Green Day)

Chapter 7

Harley kept her distance as she followed her husband down the dark, deserted streets of the city. Her hands were wrapped tightly around the steering wheel as she maintained a speed that allowed her to keep up with the black Lincoln Navigator Dallon had slipped into earlier that night. The vehicle came to a stop in front of a high rise apartment complex, and Harley pulled into one of the few open parking spots on the street a block away.

In the shadows of the night, Harley watched as several men jumped out of the vehicle and into the building. Wanting to get a closer look, she got out of her car and sneaked her way over. She fell to the ground as gunshots rang through the air. Glass sprinkled down from the sky, getting in her hair and on her back as she crouched down, tilting her head back to look up and see the broken window at least fifteen floors up.

With the hole in the side of the building, screaming and shouting echoed through the city. Harley slowly picked herself back up off of the cement and listened to the struggle coming from the apartment, identifying one of those voices as Dallon's. "No," She murmured in disbelief, not wanting to believe that he was responsible for what was happening stories above.

Before she could retreat back to her car and get back home before her husband, an object was thrown out of the broken window. That object, however, wasn't an object at all. It was the group's target that night.

"I was mortified," She explained, the corner of her lips being pulled downward into a frown, "Absolutely mortified."

"What'd you do?" I asked, entranced by her story.

"I screamed, naturally," She confessed, "My scream attracted the attention of the guys, so I had to run. I didn't get caught that night, but after a while, they realized I knew what was going on. At least Dallon did, and he told me everything."

"I understand if you want to get a divorce," He concluded his painful explanation, the couple standing outside on the balcony of their apartment and leaning on the railing holding them back, "I would, if I were in your shoes."

"I just don't get it," She murmured, shaking her head and making sure to avoid her husband's gaze by keeping it locked on the couple walking down the sidewalk, away from them. "Why do you do it?"

"It's hard to explain," Dallon answered, biting his lip and tilting his head down, closing his eyes as he had an internal debate about whether or not he should tell her. He didn't really have a choice anymore. She knew. What was the point in keeping her in the dark anymore?

He let out a sigh and slowly opened his eyes, glancing over at his wife and saying, "Look, Harley, Billie found me when I was young. He finds all of us when we're young. And when he finds us, he doesn't just take us in to be his henchmen. He takes us in to turn us into better people, better men. Yes, our work is dangerous, and yes, it requires a lot of sacrifice. And..." A chuckle slipped past his lips as he pushed himself away from the railing and took a few steps back, pushing his fingers through his hair. "...shit, Harley, I've sacrificed a lot. But I couldn't sacrifice you. The minute I saw you, I knew you were something worth risking my job over."

Harley glanced back over her shoulder at Dallon, a hurt expression spread across her face. "Really? Because you just suggested we get divorced."

"Because I don't want you getting hurt!" He snapped at her, shaking his hands in frustration and his eyes glistening with tears. They were the same tears Harley shed countless nights, tears fueled by the aggravation that came with the lies their relationship was built on.

"Maybe I want to get hurt," She murmured, turning around toward the apartment and folding her arms over her chest.

He scoffed. "You want to get hurt?"

"I didn't marry you to be a housewife, did I?" She retorted with an attitude.

"I was stupid," Harley confessed, shaking her head in disdain of her past actions, "I was so stupid. I wanted a life I didn't know anything about, and I was persistent about it. Dallon couldn't stop me. He tried, he really did, but I wanted to be with him. I wanted to live in his world and when I did...I can't tell you how many times I just barely missed a bullet shot in my direction."

My eyebrows knit together. "So he's part of a gang?"

"It's not a gang," She corrected me, her eyes directly gazing into mine, "It's a group."

"But you said-"

"Look, Brendon, listen to me," She demanded, her hand falling atop of mine, "You don't want to be a part of this life. I don't even want to be a part of it anymore, and me being here as long as I have, I've already put you in danger." She rose to her feet once again and tried to go towards the door. She didn't get far before I shot up - my inebriation, for the most part, subsided - and grabbed her by the upper arm.

"Can I be honest with you?" I asked her, my voice cracking as she kept turned away from me, despite my gesture that I hoped would bring her attention to me. She remained silent but stayed in place, so I took this as my cue to continue, "I-I haven't really done anything lately. My life's fallen into this boring routine of getting up, doing yard work all around this city just to make a measly penny, and then coming home at the end of the day, absolutely miserable. I've wanted something to take me away from this for a while now, and...this might be it. You have to let me come with you, or let you stay here, whichever works better for you."

She shook her head and yanked her arm out of my grasp, not saying anything to me as she rushed out of the house. "Harley!" I exclaimed, following after her.

"Brendon, you're not listening to me!" She told me as she stormed off down the sidewalk, "This life isn't something you want!"

"But you don't know me!"

"I know, and that's why I'm not dragging you into this! End of discussion!" And with that, she turned her fast-paced walk into a run, leaving the neighborhood she'd never been to before.