AGALMATOPHILIA

_-:44:-_

Gerard, with a shell shocked Brendon by his side, sits, perched on the gutter of the sidewalk.

Between the pair, a cigarette is passed and shared, the handcuffs tight and clunky around Brendon's wrists.

It's deafening with the emergency fire response team behind them blasting hoses, one exits soot covered and coughing, stumbling up to the awkward duo sitting and brooding.

"No one was inside, but we found loads of these crusty, burnt dolls, a note that has surprisingly survived, and if you'd like Mr. Urie, there's a picture left behind," the ash covered man squats down, handing over the items minus any dolls.

Brendon didn't want those.

"Here," Gerard just about snatches the crumpled dirty note from his trembling fingers, ignoring the filthy look thrown at him afterwards.

Gerard scans the note, adjusting his glasses.

Silently, Brendon reads along over his shoulder, eyes widening with every word, Gerard flipping the note over to check the back, nothing there.

"I'm confused, I don't get this?"

"I do," Brendon gulps.

With only a slight movement as a gesture for Brendon to continue, Gerard hands the note back, arms crossed over each knee.

"My hearts heavy, upside down,
Spill blood a last time, where the fun begun," Brendon sighs, Gerard intently listening.

"Enraptured with your love, last test for our hearts, if you need me too, come find me,"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Brendon half heartedly, darkly chuckles, Gerard possibly more confused.

"Seriously, it's your weirdo boyfriend, explain this cryptic bullshit to me,"

Brendon snaps his head up with an insulated frown.

"He's not my boyfriend, asshole, and in case it isn't clear to you, this note is basically saying Tyler's his last victim, thought you were a cop,"

Gerard scoffs, with a sly smile. He liked the sass of Brendon, never confident enough to be just like him, though he wished he could.

Brendon looks to him, there's a sparkle of hope within his chocolate pools for eyes.

He truly was a beautiful man, Gerard could see why he enjoyed getting all the attention, and perhaps why someone as pretty would turn to crime.

In Gerard's perspective, Brendon's heart was easily manipulated by those who wouldn't kiss and tell.

Sorry, Gerard felt sorry for the kid.

"Yes, I'm a cop, not a detective,"

Brendon rolls his eyes, crumpling the note.

"Same shit different stink. Well I got a really good idea of where we have to go-"

Interrupting with a few tsk's, Gerard stops Brendon's rambling.

"There isn't a we, you go to the station-"

"What the fuck no-"

"And you stay there until I bring this other shit bag back, with Tyler safe and sound," with a sure nod, Gerard rises from the ground, Brendon's brows cutting his eye in half, a scowl threatening him.

"So I'm a shit bag huh?" he mumbles, Gerard only looks away, realising his mistake.

"Look, I know Josh, you take a squad there and Tyler's going to die. You bring me, I'm the best bargaining tool you'll get with this shit. So cut the tough cop act," Brendon struggles to stand beside his counterpart.