“I’m gonna go outside or a bit, guys.” I tell Brendon and Dallon, who were busy talking about something that I had no interest in. Brendon stops and turns to me.
“Crowded?” He asks, looking around at the bar. It was very crowded tonight and I just needed some fresh air, “Okay, stay safe.” I nod, already heading outside.
It was a clear night and everyone had seemed to have a good night, no fights, no screaming, just partying and good times. It was nights like these that I liked, that is, until someone grabbed me into an alley and shoved me against the wall.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ alone?” The bastard asked, a wicked grin on his face. My first response was to kick his knee but he blocks it, pinning me down by putting his body on mine, holding me there.
“Stop, please, get o-off.” I plead and he grins again, taking a knife out and holding it to my neck.
“Don’t struggle, you little bitch.” He starts and the realization hits as I hear a zipper and tears start to fall from my eyes.
“Please, don’t.” I plead again as I feel the knife start to press harder into my neck.
“Stop talking.” He growls before someone calls my name.
“Y/n?” Brendon’s voice calls and I scream out, trying to get his attention. The knife draws against my arm first, making me scream, but when Brendon looks down the alley, the guy decides to ditch me completely, but not before shoving the knife into my side.
“Hey!” He yells as the guys runs, but as I slide down the wall in shock, Brendon turns his full attention to me, “Holy shit.” He drops to his knees to get on my level, trying to hold me. Then he holds my face so I wouldn’t be able to look down at my wound.
“You’re okay, Y/n, look at me,” He states and I look up, focusing on his eyes, “You’re okay.” He smiles but his smile is false. I wonder who he’s trying to trick, me or himself. He pulls out his phone, dialing three numbers before bringing it to his ear.
“Hi, my friend, she’s- she’s hurt. She was stabbed I need help.” Brendon starts, filling in the address and then he hangs up, bring his attention back to me.
“It hurts, B,” I gasp, my voice cracking.
“I know, Y/n, but it’s not bad, sweetie.” He lies, but his voice is so calm that my mind is telling me to believe him. I try to glance down, but he holds my head, “No, you can’t look down, just look at me. Just breathe. In and out, with me.” He starts and inhales, and I copy and then he exhales, and I follow him.
“That’s good.” He smiles and the tears start falling faster.
“Oh my god, Brendon, it hurts.” I cry, “I’m going to die.”
He grabs my hand with his open hand, rubbing it soothingly.
“Hey, hey.” He grabs my attention, “You’re not going to die.”
“I’m going - I’m-“ My eyes start to close until they close completely, and when I open them, I’m staring at a metal ceiling, people are working over me and I hear a siren wailing, and my breathing gets out of control.
“What- where am I?” I start to panic, “Where’s Brendon?” I ask the men working over me and then Brendon stands, calming me down.
“We’re going to the hospital, Y/n, you’re okay.” He tells me and I nod, growing woozy at the blood on the men’s hands over me, passing out once again.
—
I wake up.
It’s calm and I’m in a bed. An IV is in my arm and my side hurts badly. I groan, reaching for it. I didn’t even notice Brendon sleeping in one of the chairs until he moved when I groaned.
“Hey, you’re awake.” He announces, sitting up, “You okay?”
“Thank you.” is the first thing out of my mouth, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come looking for me.”
“I just wish I came earlier.” He states, “I’m sorry that happened to you. The bastard didn’t do anything, did he?”
“No,” I shake my head, “No, I’m just-“ I pause, “I’m glad you were there.” I say and he nods, “Now you have one more excuse to be extra protective, huh?” I grin, trying to make the situation.
“That’s not funny,” He grins, “And I’m not even that protective.”
“Yeah, okay.” I roll my eyes, “Damn but this hurts.” I tell him, going to reach for my wound.
“Don’t touch it too much.” He states, “If I’m gonna be the one taking care of you, then I’m gonna be the most annoying fucker for the next month or so.”
“Oh hell no,” I chuckle, “Brendon Urie, professional mother.” I say and he rolls his eyes.
“You’re goddamn right, Y/n.” He laughs, “but it’s not like I don’t already take care of you.”
“It’s more like the other way around.” I tease and he shakes his head.
“Yeah, okay.” He mocks, as he both chuckle at each other.
