You were so peaceful in sleep. Perhaps you slept a bit too much, but your boyfriend Brendon thought it was cute. So he let you. You, however, let yourself sleep too much because you didn’t want to face reality. You preferred dreaming.
You also didn’t have the temptation to do it. To make the marks on your skin. The marks that would bleed. The marks that didn’t seem to go away, no matter how much you tried to forget. At least you felt something when you did it. The only other thing that made you feel something was Brendon, and he was always off touring or at the studio. You were always terrified that he was going to come home early and catch you doing it, or that your sweater sleeve would push up or something. You couldn’t stand putting him through that as well. You knew he would care, and it would break the heart that you held so close to yours. And you couldn’t have any of that.
But he found out in a way that you hadn’t ever thought would happen:sleep. Your aforementioned favorite passtime. You were already snuggled in the covers when Brendon came to get into bed. Your scarred arm was exposed on top of the blankets.
“Y/N?” Brendon asked.
Uh oh. That awoke you. You had only ever heard him speak in that tone of voice once. And that was the time he found out Ryan had hurt himself before. It was a voice full of concern and sadness. You knew what had happened. And you weren’t quite ready to face the truth.
“Y/N…I know you’re awake. W-What happened to your arm?” He asked, his voice quivering.
You both knew what had happened, so why bother asking? You slowly turned over to be able to see his face, and that alone almost had you in tears. His eyes were filled will concern, and his lips with curled into a frown. If there was one thing you knew about Brendon Boyd Urie, it was that he never frowned.
You took a deep breath, and tried to steady your voice.
“I-I did t-this to m-myself,” you choked out.
There was a long pause, then he wrapped his arms around you, and you started bawling.It would’ve been useless to lie; plus it almost felt good to have the truth out there. No more “Yes, I’m fines,” or “No, I’m just cold.” He held you close for a long time. Finally, he asked the million dollar question: why?
“Y/N, why did you do this to yourself?”
You mustered up enough courage to answer.
“I’ve been depressed for a long time Brendon. I’ve always had a low self esteem and my childhood wasn’t that great either. Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you made it go away for awhile. Then Panic! got big and now you’re always gone. I started hurting myself again because my depression came back. I know I shouldn’t depend on you like that, but I do,” you said. You felt terrible telling him that his absence had brought your depression back, but it was true.
“Shit, Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?” Brendon said with guilt in his throat.
“HOW THE FUCK COULD I HAVE TOLD YOU BRENDON?” you shouted.
“YOU WOULD’VE CALLED ME A CLINGY BITCH OR-OR A FREAK AND LEFT ME!!!”
Now you had gone and done it. You had cracked, and taken all your rage out on him. He was going to leave you for sure now. You started crying again.
“I-I’m sorry Brendon I just-”
“Shh, Y/N,” he whispered, quite a change in dynamics. He brought your tear stained eyes up to meet his.
“Listen. I love you more than anybody and anything I’ve ever met. You make me complete. You’re the reason I wake up in the morning, and the reason I survive to make it home at night. I don’t understand why you would ever want to do this to yourself, so I’m not going to pretend that I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that I love you, and nothing ever will. These scars will disappear, Y/N. Just like any bad feelings you’ve been having. I’m going to stand by you. I know that just me talking to you isn’t going to cure you, but I will do whatever it takes to find what will. I will always love you no matter what.”
You were speechless. He wasn’t going to leave you. He was actually going to help you. In that moment, you had never loved him more.
“I love you too Brendon,” was all you could say. That was all you needed to say.
You kissed each other goodnight, like always, and curled up into his arms. You both drifted off to sleep, with Brendon absentmindedly kissing your cuts. Those nasty scars didn’t matter anymore. Because although Brendon couldn’t make them go away, he made them not matter anymore. And that mattered more than anything.
