Dying For Your Love

Stay With Me

Dallon was losing blood.

A lot of blood.

He was currently being rushed into an ambulance that would rush him to the hospital for immediate surgery. The bassist was faintly aware that Brendon was still holding him, the man's grip tightening in anxiety every other moment as the ambulance swung into the back lot of the concert venue.

He groaned in pain at all the running, body faintly registering the warm feeling of blood thoroughly soaking through his shirt. The excess blood traveled down his dangling arm, dripping to the floor rapidly. His bandmates ran beside him as an ambulance worker took Dallon's rapidly dropping vitals.

The bassist barely reacted as bright white lights were shone in his eyes to get a measure of his consciousness.

"No dilation. He's losing consciousness. We gotta get him to surgery NOW."

"Brendon... Bren.. What's-? What's going on?"

Dallon could hear himself asking in a daze.

Brendon looked down at him, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"We're getting you to an ambulance, don't you worry. You're gonna be fine, baby, I swear. We'll get you all fixed up-"

Brendon soon found that he was reassuring himself rather than Dallon.

Brendon ran as fast as he could and screeched to a halt as he made it to the back of the open ambulance. He was reluctant to let go of Dallon but he knew he had to so he did so anyway, watching tearfully as the workers looked over the bassist. One of them whispered in a cop's ear, shaking their head sadly as the same cop pulled a limping Brendon to the side.

"Mr. Urie... Your friend... He's losing a lot of blood. He's already lost a critical amount. We can't guarantee that-"

Brendon roughly shoved past the police officer and blocked out the words he knew were coming.

"He'll make it..."

He muttered under his breath.

"Just you wait."

His bandmates tried to pull him aside to tend to his gunshot wounds but he shook them off. The adrenaline pumping in his veins had kept the pain at bay. Besides, he wasn't the one in critical condition at the moment.

He wasn't the one bleeding out on a gurney.

He wasn't the one that was important.

Dallon was.

He was all that mattered right now.

Brendon slowly looked down to see his hands stained with Dallon's blood, breath cutting short as he watched the red drip from his fingers.

"This is my fault..."

He whispered, shaking as realization hit him. There was a strange feeling in the back of his brain and it felt as though he was about to lose his grip on reality. Just as he felt himself losing the fight, though, he felt Spencer turn him around and look him fiercely in the eyes.

"Brendon. Brendon, look at me! You focus on me, alright?!"

He said and pushed the other's chin back up when he saw that he was about to look down at his blood-stained hands again.

"Don't look down. You stare right at me. Understand me?"

Spencer could see that expression on Brendon's face that made his stomach drop. He knew how fragile his best friend could be when it came to stressful situations like these. Nobody thought that Brendon was fragile but Spencer had seen firsthand how the singer had been after the situation with Ryan. Spencer knew that if Brendon was pushed far enough, he would drop off the edge and he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to get his best friend back from something like that.