Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Forthcoming

We Are A Hurricane

by rydenshipper 3 Reviews

"With every tick, I could've have been closer to losing Brendon."

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Drama - Characters:  - Warnings: [!!!] - Published: 2012/03/16 - Updated: 2012/03/17 - 1302 words

It felt as if the world had stopped spinning; like everything around me was in slow motion. I fell down onto my knees next to him, resting his head in my lap. I wiped away the blood soaked hair that clung to his forehead as I tuned out all of the worried people who were rushing to call 911. Tears came rolling down my cheeks and began to fall onto the black pavement we were resting on.

"B-Brendon?" I asked, my voice shaking. When he didn't reply in any way, I began to cry harder.

It seemed like hours had passed until the ambulance finally arrived. Four paramedics came pouring out of the back and rushed towards Brendon and I. It took them several attempts to pry me from Brendon's lifeless body, but they were finally successful in doing so. As soon as they got me away from him, they turned their attention back to his bleeding figure.

"Hello? Son, can you hear me?" I heard a paramedic ask between my sobs.

"I have a pulse!" Another exclaimed.

They placed Brendon on a gurney and wheeled him into the back of the ambulance. One of the paramedics stayed with me as I sobbed into my hands, still kneeling on the floor.

"You're friend will be fine. We are admitting him to a hospital that is closer to where you live." I looked up when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Would you like a ride?" He asked, pointing towards his squad car. I quickly nodded my head.

I followed him to the car and slid into the passenger seat. The drive to the hospital was at least a half hour long, and that was with the sirens going off. When we pulled into the parking lot, I quickly jumped out of the car and ran into the building. I approached the receptionist.

"Brendon Urie," I practically shouted at her. She looked somewhat scared of my haste.

"I need you're name, sir," she said after checking her computer screen.

"Ryan Ross." She took her time writing my name down before she finally answered.

"He's on the fifth floor, ICU. I don't think you are going to be able to seem him yet. They just checked him in not too long ago."

"Thanks," I said as I turned and walked away heading for the elevators.

I finally reached the ICU and took a seat in their waiting room. To my surprise, there was only one other man here. He was probably a lot younger than he looked. You could see the fresh path of tears that streamed down his face. I took a seat far away from him, not wanting any type of interaction.

I was seated for only a few minutes when I heard my cellphone begin to buzz in my back pocket. The caller ID read 'Jon Walker'. Fuck, I completely forgot about them.

"Hello?" I heard Jon slur from the other end of the line. He's definitely drunk.

"Jon? What the hell? Let me talk to Spencer."

"Where are you guys?" He continued, not listening to me. "You like, left." He laughed a little.

"Jon please!" There was no hiding the tears in my voice. I heard rustling on the other end.

"Hello, Ryan? Where the hell are you guys?" I was relieved to hear Spencer's voice. He sounded completely sober.

"B-Brendon got into an accident. He was h-hit by a car. I'm at the hospital right now." I began to sob.

"Oh my God. Hang on, Ry. We'll be there as soon as possible." Before I could get another word in, the line went dead.

I looked around the room. The man that was here before had left. I hadn't noticed it so he probably walked out during my conversation with Spencer and Jon. I sat back in my chair, trying to slow my tears and breathing. It was quiet. All I could hear was the ticking of the clock, each second growing louder. With every tick, I could have been closer to losing Brendon.


I was aroused from my sleep when I heard Jon stumble into the waiting room. Spener followed close behind. I sat up, desperately trying to smile, but all that brought was more tears. Spencer quickly guided Jon to sit next to me.

"Ryan!" Drunken Jon exclaimed.

"Did they say anything?" Asked Spencer, as tears began to form in his eyes.

I shook my head, not able to form any words. Just then, a man in a large white jacket with a stethoscope hanging around his neck walked into the waiting room. I assumed he was the doctor.

"Are you all here for Mr. Urie?" He asked. We all nodded. The doctor took a deep breath and held it for a while before exhaling. My heart was pounding 100 miles an hour.

"Well, there really is no easy way in telling you this."

"Oh God," I sobbed trying to hold it in. Tears began to fall profusely from my eyes as well as Spencer's and Jon's.

"He is not dead. Rather, he has fallen into a coma and me and my physicians arent quite sure when or if he will wake up. When you are ready, you may go and see him in room 521." And with that, the doctor turned and left.

"Oh my God. This is all my fault," I sobbed.

"How is this your fault, Ry? There was nothing you could've done about it," Spencer reassured me, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"It is my fault and there was something that I could've done about it." I began, looking at Jon who looked confused out of his mind.

"I-I saw him get hit before it happened. I tried so hard to stop it but I couldn't. I couldn't get there fast enough!" I began to yell a little.

"Whoa whoa whoa wait. So you are telling us that you can see the future?" Jon slurred.

"Yes. I can." I turned my gaze towards Spencer who looked scared shitless.

"That explains so much!" Jon exclaimed.


I walked towards room 521. When I reached the door, I stood there hesitantly. I couldn't face what I had done. Finally gathering enough courage, I opened his door and walked in.

The sight of him nearly brought me to my knees. He was connected to various tubs and wires. There were bandages on his arms and across his head. He had a cast on his left foot which was slightly elevated by some extra pillows. He had to stay like this for God knows how long.

"Brendon?" I asked as I walked over to his bed. He didn't answer. Obviously he wouldn't answer. But I had to try it any way.

"B-Brendon?" I said a bit louder. Still no answer. "Please wake up," I begged.

I was so frustrated with myself. How could I let this happen? This was all my fault.

"Fuck!" I yelled. I turned around and kicked the little plastic chair, moving it from its current position by the door to a few feet from the window. The chair landed with a loud thud and rested on its side.

I couldn't deal with the stress. I couldn't deal with what I had done. I just couldn't. I knew what to do. I began to search around in the drawers for something that I knew would help me. I finally found what I was looking for. A small razor blade. My old friend. My old enemy.

This should help. I thought to myself as I clutched the blade in my palm, making it bleed a little. Just a few cuts.

A/N I'm terribly sorry this took me a while to update! Anyways, please o' please rate and review. It is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading :)
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