Panic! At The Mafia//Brendon Urie

Chapter 3

In all of my life, the worst pain I felt was being shot. It was like someone killed me and then revived me. I would do anything than be shot again.

I struggled as Brendon watched me with the crutches. "Do you need help?"

I hung my head down and sighed loudly. "I need to not be injured! These crutches hurt!"

Brendon walked over to me, placed his hand on my shoulder, and looked me in the eyes. "If I could take the pain away, I would. You need to be strong and work through this therapy, for me. For us!"

I looked at him and felt tears start forming in my eyes. I broke down in front of him so many times, and now he and I were used to it. "I-I... I'm too weak."

"No!" He interjected. "You listen to me, Faelecia! You are not weak! You may be weak physically at the moment, but you're not weak at all!"

His arms wrapped around my waist and his hair tickled my neck. I heard the door open and saw the three guys walk in. They were just about to back up when they saw Brendon hugging me. "It's fine,"

I whispered, and then they sat down in the couch in the room.

"Anything you men want?" Brendon asked, not even looking at them.

"We just wanted to check on Faelecia, not a biggie," Dallon put his feet on the ottoman and watched as Brendon wiped my tears away.

"Alright, just don't speak!" He ordered the men. He kissed my cheek and smiled at me. "Better?"

I nodded and held onto the bar without my crutches. "Brendon!"

He came to my aid and held on to my waist, keeping me balanced. "I don't wanna stop using the crutches but they hurt!"

Brendon sighed and rubbed my back. "Just try walking with the bar. I'll hold your back for support, okay?"

I nodded and he smiled at me. I took a step with my left leg, the non-injured one. It was okay. Then I stepped with the right one. I winced in pain and let out a huge breath of exhaustion.

"Brendon! It hurts!" I cried out in pain. He picked me up and sighed.

"Sorry," he apologized. The guys watched as he carried me off to his room, placing me in bed.

"I'm sorry for not being able to walk." I said, even quieter. He looked at me, his glasses making his eyes a tint bigger.

"Faelecia... none of this is your fault, okay? It's just... stress is a virtue. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm not expecting you to be walking a week after you got shot. Not at all. These are just baby steps." His hand ran up and down my arm. I nodded and closed my eyes.

"I have gone around two weeks without music and it is killing me more than this hole in my leg..." Brendon chuckled at that, taking his phone out of his pocket and going onto Spotify.

He handed his phone to me and smiled. "Play whatever you want."

"Even pop music?" I intrigued.

"Especially pop music!" He watched as I play Dua Lipa's Blow Your Mind (Mwah).

And that night, I fell asleep to music and Brendon's humming for the first time.