Wicked | Brendon Urie X Reader

-38-

-I would just like to thank everyone for the constant support that they give to this story. It's really inspiring and it helps me with ideas and everything for this. Thank you all for putting up with my not so perfect schedule when it comes to updating. School is a honest tragedy in my life with exams and everything that comes with that. So again, Thank you.

-Kat

-38-

The Turning

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             You hadn't seen the sight of a hospital machine since your father was on his death bed. His suicide had put a toll on you, only pushing your fear of white hospital rooms with the plastic smell heavy on your mind. You'd spend weeks there with your who was your step father, before his tragic death only hours after he plunged himself into the river. It was around that time that your older sister, that you merely forget about, had disappeared from your lives. She went off to college and then never came back. You could say she was somewhere in North Dakota or something around there, but since then she could be as far as Rhode Island and you wouldn't care.

               Your family relationship was miniscule. The closest you were with anyone was your younger brother and sometimes your mother, but after your father's death, it all became meaningless in your family to have such a bond. You recount having the feeling that you were all responsible for the family around you just crippling and falling apart at the seams. It was like an old sweater, that was ripped at ever inch you could find and stained with such grime that you couldn't recall from the years passed, but you dearly loved it and never wanted to get rid of it, but had to eventually in hopes that you could one day find a new sweater and love it just as much.

             You lost that sweater long ago and now it felt like nothing had changed. Your new sweater was something soft and something you felt comfortable in, safe in. Maybe for the first time in your life, you felt like you would never have to worry about the strands coming undone and the fabric just falling apart on your body by every movement you made. It now felt like it was made of warm steel, sharp and strong enough to withstand the constant arguments that you could have on what to eat.

               Right now, you had hopped back into that old sweater, as you dug it up from the ground somehow and were holding the new sweater tightly in hand, clutching it and never wanting to let go of that. The white sheet over your body, felt way softer than the crisp, paper like material from when you were a child. Everything was softer and warmer in a way, with the sights of your best friend, lover, brother, and practically family surrounding you and supporting you through a venture that was promising to be agonizing.

"It's gonna be okay," you hear in the right of your ear, whipping your thoughts away to capture the face of Ryan's soft brown eyed stare making back at you.

"I hope so..." you frown and look him over with a pained glance, the flashing memories of your step father coming in and out of view.

"It's gonna be nothing like it was. You aren't going to end up dead in a bed like he did. I promise..."

               Ryan reaches forward and grabs your hand tightly within his cold one, the pale, sickly skin almost mimicking yours from the sight of his body, slowly, but surely losing the fight against the sickness. You squeeze it back and take a deep breath as he calmly reassures you with a smooth thumb over the back of your hand.

"Y/N, I hate needles myself more than anything, so I think I'm gonna let Brendon handle this one for right now. I just... I really can't stand the sight of them," Gerard breaks your moment, shockingly holding a large needle before you, which glistens in the bright lit room somehow and you look over it slowly, a pang of fear bubbling inside of you as well.