Search & Seizure (Brendon Urie Fanfiction)

Fighting

You had been invited to the album release party of some other band on Pete's label. You honestly don't even remember who. While you were getting ready at home, you and Brendon started bickering.

"All I'm saying is that it would be nice if you cleaned up after yourself every once and a while," You murmured, clearly irritated.

You always promised each other that you'd never fall into stupid gender roles of 'housewife' and 'working husband.' You agreed to be equal. But Brendon has been terrible about it lately, acting like a hurricane everywhere he went, leaving mass destruction in his wake.

Sure, men are stereotypically messy, but it was getting ridiculous. Dirty clothes, leaving food out and attracting all sorts of creatures, never doing the dishes or helping out with anything at all, really. It made you feel like he didn't care about you or what you wanted.

"Oh come on, babe," Brendon replied flatly.

"No Brendon," you shot back, raising your voice, "I'm not a maid, I'm your wife! Treat me with some fucking respect and stop being such a lazy fuck!"

"Really?" he narrowed his eyes in betrayal, "A 'lazy fuck'? Is that what I am?"

"Brendon," You sighed, knowing that he shouldn't be that offended by what you said, "You know what I meant."

"I really don't think I do," He shook his head, looking hurt. Some guilt pooled in your stomach. "Let's go," He said quietly, "We're gonna be late."

"Brendon–" You try, but he cuts you off.

"Whatever Y/n" he said, "We need to leave."

The drive to the party was silent. You picked up Zack and his girlfriend, Kala, along the way. It was immediately clear to them that you had been fighting. The whole car ride was so awkward it almost hurt.

Once you were finally free of the confines of the car, you could release a little of the tension.

You and Brendon walked in together, acting nice and politely greeting people. Once you had made the rounds, Brendon immediately left you and went to talk with Pete and some of his guys. You stood alone, swirling the soda in your fancy glass. You don't drink alcohol, but you always play along to fit in.

Oh shit, did you take your medication last night? This morning? Fuck...

"Hey Y/n!"

You turned around. It was Jenna, Tyler's wife.

"Hey Jenna!" You took her into a hug, truly excited to see her. "Oh my god, it's been forever!"

"I know!" Jenna smiled.

You got to talking, catching up. She was a good distraction and it helped take your mind off of everything.

Pete decided to do a toast of sorts and Jenna walked over to Tyler.

As you watch her go, your vision becomes skewed, the room beginning to move around you.

Fuck fuck fuck

The sound around you was fading and you needed to throw up. Fear and panic consumed you. You want Brendon so badly but you know he's still upset. In your confusion, you decide not to tell him–he's too angry at you to deal with this.

You wander into the hallway and find a bathroom, losing your balance and tripping your way over to it. Once inside, you plan to go to the toilet, but you're too uncoordinated. You just slide down the wall and sit instead. It feels good to be on the cool tile but before you can process it, you're throwing up on the floor next to you.