And So We Fall

Nearly Ethereal

//disclaimer//

There are views on religion and God expressed by Ryan that can be considered controversial, but I am not here to cause anger or start a fight. I felt this was needed to show this character's true feelings about religion and why exactly he doesn't believe in God. I understand that the basis of Christianity is that God loves all people, but this is from Ryan's POV. Ryan grew up in a very religious family that was involved with a church that was extremely homophobic. The way he grew up affected how he saw religion. He was never exposed to the loving side of Christianity, therefore he always believed that religion was hateful and cruel because that's all he knew. I am not hating on religion or religious people, and Ryan's views do not necessarily reflect my own. I love you all regardless of gender, religion, race, or sexual orientation.

xxx

*Brendon's POV*

Muffled voices meet my ears, signaling my curious eyes to wrench themselves open to find the source of the noise. My head pounds, a painful rhythmic throb on the right side of my skull. The light of the room stings my eyes, and I squeeze them shut, groaning. I roll over on the couch to hide my face in the fabric.

"Guys, he's awake!" A familiar voice calls out.

I open one eye to look at the person knelt beside me. Dallon forces a smile to hide the concern so obviously weighing down his features. I take a glance at the space around him and realize I'm in the rec room in the studio.

I rub my temple, frowning. "What-"

"You kind of passed out." Dallon explains, shrugging. "It's only been an hour or so. A doctor came by and said it was most likely caused by stress." He shakes his head. "Christ, Brendon. You had William on the verge of a panic attack."

"Where is he?" I ask suddenly, the things I'd said to our manager just an hour ago flooding back into my brain and weighing down on me with guilt.

"He went home to give you space. Thought you needed it. I think he needed space from you because he wouldn't stop mumbling about how he killed Brendon Urie." Dallon rolls his eyes, a hint of a smile flickering just for a moment on his features, then reverting back to a serious expression. "He feels awful, you know."

"I know." I groan, running my hands through my hair. "I'm such an ass."

"Well, yeah..." Dallon agrees.

I punch his shoulder. "Fuck off." I suppress a grin. Dallon laughs wholeheartedly now. I shift on the couch so that I'm now facing him. My head throbs with the movement. "So when are we going back to recording? Is Norm ready now? We can start Strike for the Heart over again if he wants, I know I fucked that one up..." I trail off when I realize Dallon has begun to stare at the floor, trying to hide a look of remorse and something that's nearly pity. "What?" I ask, worried of what the answer might be.

He purses his lips and won't meet my eyes.

"Dal," I start warningly.

Dallon looks up at me with uncertainty. "Norm and the guys thought it would be best if we take a break from the studio. Just a few weeks, so you can have some time to deal with whatever you need to deal with."

I start shaking my head, refusing to believe the words coming out of his mouth. "No." I know that all it takes is one more mishap for the label to start seriously considering dropping us, and several studio days missed because I can't fucking control myself is just the excuse they need. We've made it this far, and I know it's not fair to the guys for them to lose this opportunity at the expense of my own mental breakdown. "I'll be fine. I'm not putting the band in jeopardy to 'work out my problems'." I spit mockingly.