♡Sweetheart♡ ||Brendon Urie x Reader||

Chapter 26

2k FOLLOWERS??? This is AMAZING! Thank you guys so much, I don't even know what to do to celebrate! Leave a comment to suggest something <3

Brendon glanced at Dallon before he spoke.

"What? I want to hear you recount the story, too! Not just her," Dallon gave a little smirk.

It had been obvious that Dallon knew the whole story, anyway.

Brendon nodded hesitantly, then continued. "You found me with another woman."

My eyes widened. I found what?!

Just as I was about to open my mouth and comment about his statement, Dallon began to wheeze, his voice vibrating off the walls. I turned to face him. What the hell did he think was so funny?

"Pardon his poor choice of wording, [y/n]," Lu began. "He did not cheat on you like he made it sound." Out of the corner of my eye I saw her pinch his ear like a scolding mother.

Somehow the atmosphere seemed too light for what was actually happening.

Dallon's suppressed laughter died down. "He meant that you caught him in the middle of an experiment. Brendon was screwing her over, not screwing her."

I stared at him dead in his eyes because of that comment, then turned my attention back to Brendon. "What kind of experiment?"

Brendon tried to look me face to face when he spoke, but he seemed to be struggling. Instead, he motioned to the gun-like machine that had been in the room the entire time.

"Oh," I said.

Suddenly, I remembered a dream that I had. One of me running into this very basement. One of me watching a girl convulsing on the floor. One of me being thrown into the same state as that girl by that very object that lay before me.

Instinctively, I took a step back from Brendon.

He looked hurt, but he didn't protest. It seemed as though he knew it would happen. "So you already regained that one, huh?"

I didn't respond. I didn't know how to.

"This thing," Brendon picked it up finally, his hand holding it limply almost like it was a piece of garbage, "is my father's creation. The project I've been raised to improve. The only reason for my existence." He looked at me seriously then, like he wanted me to know for sure he was not joking around. "If not for this thing, I'd have been dead years ago. I would have had no purpose."

My eyebrows furrowed. "You don't mean. . ."

"Yes, if I hadn't grown up to work on this project, then I would have been killed. If I hadn't had the mental capacity or stability to improve this piece of ass, I would have no reason to exist. After all, my father did invent the damn thing."

He began to curse his very existence. To everyone else it may have sounded like nothing more than gibberish, but I knew for sure, in this moment, that he wished to be born under different circumstances.

"And what I hate the most about this situation, [y/n] [l/n], is that I used this shit right in front of you without knowing it." His gaze bore holes in the gun-like machine in his hands. "Policy states that I had to use it on you. . . or kill you."

I didn't know what to say. No one else had been reacting as I had. Why the hell did they all know about this and I didn't?

Brendon moved closer to me. I forgot to step away. His gaze moved to my shoulder. "That mark. . . When I shoot someone with this, it leaves a dot."

That's where it was from? I looked around nervously. Dallon perked up, suddenly taking interest. He began listening more intently.

"There's a reason there are two dots connected, you know. It looks like a heart, but really. . ." Brendon's eyes narrowed, and I realized that may have been him considering his next words. He started over. "I know a lot of things that everyone else doesn't. I can do a lot more things. My dad taught me, not someone random. After all, my dad knew everything about this. What everyone else didn't know, was that there was a way to collect the memory-based data from your hippocampus and associated areas in your limbic system and edit them. After I edited your memories, I had to shoot you with this again to, well, give the edited information back to you."