❝ this is your bodyguard for the next little while, agent brendon urie. ❞
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𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.
𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐂𝐔, 𝐏𝐑𝐄-𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑.
𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄...
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✧ ✧ ✧
This is it.
It's over. It's all over now.
This is how I die.
Those were the only thoughts that ran through Agent Corvey's mind as he was unforgivingly gripped by the front of his shirt and flung backwards, against the concrete wall. The impact stung a fair amount, but he swallowed the groan of pain clawing up his throat out of fear that making a sound would piss off your bodyguard even more.
Yeah, right. As if that were possible.
Brendon was angrier than he had been in a very, very long time. Quite possibly ever. Most of that anger was toward the useless man he had pinned up against the wall, practically shivering with fear, but a fairly large chunk of that anger was towards himself.
He had one job – that job was to protect you – and he failed. You were gone, and despite S.H.I.E.L.D's best efforts, no one had been able to find so much as a breadcrumb to lead them in your direction. For all he knew, you could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere. You could be trapped in some weirdo's car or hotel room, about to become the next victim of a deranged serial killer. You could've been captured by Hydra. You could be being tortured right at this very moment. You could be- Fuck.
Brendon shut his eyes tightly for a moment, chest heaving as he tried to clear his mind of all those errant thoughts. He didn't want to think about any of those possibilities. He couldn't. If he allowed himself to, he would be giving in to the notion that you were gone, never to return. And there was no way he was going to give in to that.
Not now, not ever.
Instead, he would do everything in his power to find you and bring you back. Heck, he'd search all fifty states on foot if he had to. He had promised you that he wouldn't let anything happen to you, and he would destroy anyone that threatened that promise.
Starting with the stupid fucker that was whimpering under his hold like an abandoned puppy.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't toss your sorry ass out of that fucking window right now," Brendon jerked his head in the direction of the panoramic window of the helicarrier.
He kept his icy gaze fixed on Corvey, who was making a concerted effort to form some sort of an answer, but struggled tremendously to do so. All he could manage was a few strained syllables, none of which were at all comprehendible. This only made your bodyguard livider, and he tightened his grip on the lesser agent's shirt as he minimised the space between them in one swift motion; Corvey flinched, shutting his eyes and preparing for the hit he was certain was about to come.
