♡Sweetheart♡ ||Brendon Urie x Reader||

Part II: Chapter 6

Hello y'all! Hope everyone is having a good day!

Dallon sat in the backseat of a car, his legs and arms crossed as his finger tapped violently against his forearm. His eyes were closed in sheer irritation as he was driven place to place, searching expectantly for some kind of clue.

He had left Brendon Urie alone for the time being. Messing with him could put his job on the line, and even possibly his life. But in this situation, any lead would do. Even if it came from the mouth of the very man who had betrayed his government more than enough times.

The black Chevrolet rolled to a stop, and the driver quickly ran to open Dallon's door. The tall man stepped out, straightened his jacket, and sauntered up to the door of the large mansion. Not long after he rang the doorbell, the door opened wide for him to come face to face with the smiling maid, her hair done up in a perfect bun and her body moving as if she were never injured.

"Mr. Brendon will be down in just a minute," she said and stepped out of the way for him to enter. He didn't respond.

Looking around, nothing looked too strange. It was the same way he had always seen it, with everything perfectly clean, dusted, and symmetrical. The marble floors portrayed a distorted reflection of his frowning face.

"Good afternoon, Dallon," he snapped his head up to see a man neatly dressed in a bow tie and a vest playing with the cuffs of his white button up, "I was expecting you to come around sometime soon."

Ignoring his small talk, Dallon waited for him to fully make his way down the white staircase. "We need to talk."

Brendon smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Ah, of course. Let us sit down, then. I'll have Lu fetch us something to drink."

"That won't be necessary. We can talk here."

"But I insist." The younger man placed his hand on Dallon's back and began leading him in the direction of the living room. "Do you like Earl Grey?"

"Water is fine."

"Here you are," Lu smiled as she placed the cups on the table, bowed, and took her leave.

"You know, Brendon Urie," Dallon stared him down as the man in front of him took a sip of his tea. "I'm a bit suspicious of you. Most men don't show hospitality to someone who recently tried to kill him."

Brendon lowered the tea cup from his mouth and smiled. "Do you really think I'm 'most men'?"

Dallon's hands clenched.

"I receive my paycheck like anyone else, but I also receive a check at the end of the month for every time someone used my father's memory wiping device. Every time the government tries to modify it? A fat check and a document explaining exactly what they tried to do and how delivered right to my door."

"Yes, I'm aware," His eyes twitched in jealousy, "of how important you are. And how humble you are, as well," he drew out the word 'humble' with a bitter taste of sarcasm.

Brendon only sniggered. "I have no reason not to be humble. I didn't create the device myself, I only receive constant updates on it. I may use that information to achieve new features and designs of the machine, but it's my choice whether to release that information or not.

"There is a time and place for a man to be humble, and a time and place for a man to boast. Considering you had a gun pressed to my head not too long ago, I think it's only fair."

Grumbling under his breath, Dallon nodded. "I'm not here to apologize, though. You may reserve the right not to share new information, but that does not eliminate the fact that you are not loyal to our government."

"And you are, but for what reason?" Brendon sat and watched Dallon's facial expressions, seeing them change slightly. A twitch of his nose here, a frown on his mouth there. "Your parents were revolutionaries and were killed by the very people you are oh-so-loyal to. Why?"

"My parents were fools."

"Perhaps they were. Maybe your parents were wrong. Maybe the government was wrong. Maybe everyone is wrong. But what still stands is that they are your parents and they are dead."

Dallon stood up in a fit of anger. "I know for a fact that our government was correct in the measures they took against my parents! They are a noble, trustworthy government that works hard for its people. You don't know the half of what goes on there, Urie."

Brendon smirked and pulled a paper out of his pocket, sliding it to Dallon. He grabbed the document, gave Brendon a sideways glance, and unfolded it.

Attempted to rewire the body of the machine to make it more efficient. Unsuccessful.

Replaced original material on hand grip with leather. Successful.

Dallon stopped reading, but briefly caught a sum on the bottom of the paper.

2 million dollars.

He crumpled it up.

"I think I know most of what goes on there."

"Where the hell is the girl, Brendon?"

"Oh, jumping straight to the point, huh?" He smiled. "Are you that desperate to rise above your position?"

"Shut the hell up, where is she?"

"I'm sorry to break it to you, Dallon, but girl or no girl, they're not going to promote you."

Dallon reached and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up to stand. "You don't know what you're talking about. Now let me see your phone."

Brendon slid the man his phone and told him the password. He waited as he searched through his text messages, phone calls, and even contacts to find any trace of her. There were none. He angrily handed it back.

"You know," Brendon sat back down and urged Dallon to follow. "Let's say you do find her. You bring her back to that big grey building a few hours away. She's shipped off. What good would that do you?"

"It'd be good for my record and my ego."

"Exactly. Now what good what that do her?"

"I don't care."

"She'd be taken and tested on. They would want to see what I may have done to her. How I somehow edited her memories. They'd work on the device and use her as a dummy. Then, when they're done with her, they'll most likely kill her to keep me from finding her." Brendon shrugged. "But it's obvious you don't seem to care, as you have no respect for anyone but people in the same line of business as you."

"That's not true," Dallon protested.

"Oh, that's right." Brendon set his tea down and leaned in. "You don't even have respect for your own parents."

Dallon took a swing at Brendon and missed.

"Listen, Mr. Weekes. You're not going to gain anything by killing this innocent high schooler. Nor are you going to gain anything by trying to mend your broken family name. The most you can do is what's right, and you're not going to get a damn thing by staying a field agent."

Dallon walked away, his feet stomping hard against the echoing floor. He had other plans, better things to do than listen to the nonsense Brendon Urie would spout.

Leaving his cup of water behind, he hadn't had time to think if Brendon was right or not.

Wtf Dallon chapter??

No lie this was kinda fun to write haha