I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

We'd decided to stop while we were still an hour or two away from the city, and it was still dark. We were in the parking lot of a little convenience store (one that was practically empty except for like one car, which I assumed belonged to the poor bastard at the register in the store), and Ryan had suggested pulling over and forcing Spencer to go to the police.

So, after talking things over and deciding exactly how to go about everything, I hopped out of the car and opened the back door, poking Spencer in the forehead.

"Wake up, Spencer!" I sing-songed. Spencer scowled without opening his eyes.

"Where are we?"

"Open your eyes and find out," Ryan replied callously, opening the driver's side door and stepping out of the vehicle. Spencer groaned and sat up, looking confused.

"A store? Aren't we supposed to be in New York by now? We really shouldn't be stopping, what if someone sees my car and calls the fucking cops, or-"

"Just get out of the goddamn car!" Ryan snapped, and Spencer's eyes widened.

"But what-"

"Spencer, this is the last fucking time I ask nicely," he barked. "Out. Now."

I frowned, but didn't say anything. Poor Spencer, probably all confused and sleepy and shit...

"Brendon," Ryan said, and I looked over at him. He motioned towards the store, where a woman was curiously looking over at us through the glass from behind the counter, probably wondering what all the yelling was about, or why we were here so late at night.

"Do you want me to-"

"Kill her," Ryan sighed. "We can't risk her overhearing anything. And there might be cameras, so take care of those, too."

"Right, got it," I said, attempting to find the knife in the back of Spencer's car.

"Fuck, wait, Brendon," Spencer chimed in, glaring. "I thought you only killed homophobes and drunks, not fucking innocent people!"

"Sometimes, people get in the way," I replied, successfully finding my knife and shoving it in my jacket.

"That's not-" Spencer started.

"Shut up," Ryan commanded. Spencer narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you being such an assh-"

"Spencer, I swear to fucking god, if I have to repeat myself one more time to you-"

"I'm sorry, Spence," I sighed, looking from him to Ryan and back. "You know I am."

Without another word, I walked into the little store.

"Hello," the woman greeted uncertainly. "Um. Can I ask what's going on out there?"

I glanced at her, half smiling. Sarah, her name tag said.

"Well, Sarah," I said, stepping closer to the counter, "It's not really that big of a deal. My friends are all just cranky. we've been driving for awhile..."

Shit, what if there's a little red panic button under that counter?

"Oh. Sorry for being nosy, but I'm just supposed to ask, if I see something..." she trailed off. "Oh my god, is he okay?"

She rushed out from behind the counter to the large glass window. Ryan was flailing his arms like a madman, screaming, and Spencer was just standing there with wide eyes and a shocked expression.

"Ryan? He's harmless, don't worry about it," I laughed, taking the knife out from under my jacket. She didn't look away from the window.

"Hey, do I...know you? You look fa-" she stopped once she turned around, expression changing from curious to horrified in an instant.

"Probably. We're all over the news, hun," I replied, smiling. "Now, listen. Honestly, I don't want to have to do this. But it's precautionary, so...I'm sorry."

I stepped closer, cornering her.

"I-I-I, no, please," she begged. "I d-didn't do anyth-"

"I know you didn't, sweetie. That's why I'm sorry about it," I sighed, shoving her against the glass of the window without bothering to cover her mouth. Who was gonna hear her scream, anyway? Ryan? The little fucker loves that shit.

I pressed the blade against her throat and smirked.

"So. Are you going to scream for me?" I asked, and as if on cue, a shriek slipped from her mouth.

Outside, I saw Ryan glance over, eyes widening, before something hit me over the head and everything went black.

~•~

"What the f-"

"Shut the fuck up!"

It was a woman's voice, different from Sarah's, and I let my eyes flutter open.

"I'll be damned. You're Brendon Urie, aren't you?"

I nodded and looked outside. Spencer was standing near the glass, and Ryan was staring in abject horror a few feet behind him.

Well, fuck. Game over.

"And the police were right!" Sarah squeaked. "Is that Spencer Smith? The guy who you're working with now?"

I frowned. Well at least I can save Spencer, right?

"No, I only fucking work with Ryan!" I snapped, hoping it was convincing enough. "Fucking police theories. They're idiots, every one of them. Hey, can I have my knife back?"

"Fuck no!" the other girl yelled. I smiled.

"Sorry. Thought it was worth a try," I laughed bitterly, standing up.

"Sit down!" Sarah commanded. I rolled my eyes.

"Sheesh, you're acting like I'm Jack The Ripper or something. Chill out. I'm just standing up. My head hurts. D'you think I have a concussion? What the hell did you even hit me with, anyway? And where the hell did you come from?"

"I was in the back, on break. You honestly think we'd be allowed to stay here all alone in the middle of the night? Fucking idiot," the other girl hissed. I frowned.

"You really wanna try and piss me off? I don't need a knife to kill you, you know," I growled.

"Who is Spencer Smith, then?" Sarah interrupted. I sighed and looked through the glass at Spencer.

"It's locked," she said. "Who is he? Talk."

"Best friend since kindergarten. I didn't have the balls to kill him, so we're letting him live. Plus, the cops found our old credit cards, and we needed new ones," I explained. "The kid hates us. Ryan's probably standing behind him so that he doesn't escape. Oh, Ryan. Can I wave to him? Hi, Ryan!" I waved at him, smiling apologetically, but his expression didn't change.

Damn it, he was right from the beginning. He specifically said that we could lose each other, but I didn't listen. And now I'm going to be rotting in prison, or be put to death, and he's going to be out here with Spencer worrying about me.

"Spencer's a captive?" Sarah asked. I nodded, glad she was buying it.

"Yeah. I'm a mean guy, but I just can't kill him. It's kinda embarrassing. Maybe Ryan'll do it when the cops come...are they on their way yet? Fuckers. Hey, can I like, have a-"

"No. Sarah, go call the cops on the phone behind the counter," the girl commanded.

"Hold on," Sarah said softly. "We can't just let him die out there."

I tried to keep the smile off my face as she unlocked the door and Spencer walked in. Ryan hurried closer, but the door was locked again before he got to it.

"Fuckers! Don't you touch him!" he growled, slapping his palm against the glass.

"Why did you let me in?" Spencer asked, seemingly confused.

"Because since you're our hostage and I couldn't kill you, they don't want Ryan to," I mumbled, glancing over at him and smiling slightly. "Congratulations on being the only one to ever escape alive, asshole." 

His eyes widened.

"Oh. Uh, thanks?"

Sarah beamed.

"You're lucky you survived!" she said. Spencer nodded slowly.

"Yeah..." he muttered. "Lucky. Hey, do you have water?"

"Up at the counter, yeah. Help yourself. There's a phone back there too, would you mind calling the cops? We both have to watch him, so he doesn't..."

"Alright," Spencer sighed, shooting me an angry glare.

But what did I do?

The girls watched me closely, and Spencer walked over the counter and picked up my knife that was still laying on the floor where I had dropped it when I passed out.

Fuck...what?!

Spencer walked up behind the girl I didn't have a name for and gave me a final glare before grabbing her and holding her in place.

"What the hell....no!" Sarah squeaked, eyes going wide. I hurried over and pulled her away before she could get to Spencer.

"Pl-Please, no, I'm sorry, I don't-" she pleaded. I frowned.

"Shut up," I commanded, putting a hand over her mouth and looking over at Spencer.

"Best friends, Spencer Smith!" I cheered, smiling widely. "You...I owe you. Remember that. Hand me my knife?"

"I fucking hate you," he hissed, doing as I asked. I laughed and sliced the girl's throat without any hesitation, letting her fall to the floor with a dull thud. I glanced at the girl Spencer was holding.

"Would you like to kill her, or-"

"I'm not a fucking murderer!" he snarled, and the girl thrashed around a little. I shrugged.

"Alright, alright. I was just being polite, Jesus Christ," I said, letting out a light laugh. Here I am, mentioning Jesus as I'm about to kill someone. 

There was a tap on the glass outside, and I looked over to see Ryan, still standing outside the store. I smiled at him and turned away from the girl.

"Spencer, hold her for a second," I mumbled, walking over to let Ryan in.

"I'm letting her go in five minutes, Brendon, I swear to god!" he hissed, and I nodded, smirking. There's god again, at the scene of a murder.

I unlocked the door, and Ryan immediately wrapped me in a hug. I wasn't sure whether he looked happy or angry.

"Brendon, you fucker," he breathed, letting me go. "I thought...shit, do you even realize how-"

"I know, I know," I laughed. "I'm sorry."

"You should be, you're the worst," he replied, surging forward to attach our lips. I leaned away from him, though, grabbing his hand and motioning towards the woman Spencer was still holding.

"Ryan, that's our top priority right now," I protested.

He sighed, but nodded anyway, taking my knife.

"Spencer," he said, grabbing the girl's wrist, "I suggest you let her go in three seconds, or you're gonna end up-"

Spencer let go before Ryan even finished his sentence, and I smiled.

"Wanna give me a hand with the cameras, Spence?" I asked. He turned to face me, eyes wide and face drained of color.

"I guess," he muttered. I arched an eyebrow.

"You okay?"

He frowned.

"Am I okay?! It's one thing, being accused of being an accessory to murder; but it's another thing completely if I actually did help kill someone! I'm a criminal!" he ranted. "Do you even understand what I'm saying, Brendon?!"

I rolled my eyes.

"Spencer, you're freaking out," I said. He groaned in frustration.

"Damn fucking right I'm freaking out!" he hissed. I sighed.

"Listen, once you get to New York, things'll be fine and you'll never have to deal with any of this again, alright?" I asked. "Just calm down and help me with these cameras."

"How do I know it'll end in New York? What does that have to do with anything?" he questioned. Ryan let the girl's body lay on the floor and stood up, hair falling across his blood-spattered face.

"Because we're not coming with you," he replied, half-smiling. "Sorry for being an asshole, I was hoping you'd leave on your own."

"Yeah. Spencer, after this, you're going to the cops and claiming to be a hostage, alright? Say we were cruel and sadistic and we made out on your suitcase every night and-"

"I can't," he said, cutting me off. Ryan frowned.

"Why not?" he asked. Spencer sighed.

"Because I'm actually guilty now, and it isn't fair. I'm a bad liar anyway, and plus, you guys'll get caught in a day if you don't have me with you," he replied. "I said we were going to New York, and that's what we're going to do."

Ryan looked at me questioningly, and then back to Spencer. My eyes widened.

"Are...you sure?" I asked slowly. He nodded, frowning.

"Yeah, and you're going to have to kill me before you convince me otherwise. Now, let me help you with those cameras?"

I beamed at him.

"I repeat: best friend, Spencer Smith!" I gushed, looking over at Ryan. "Are you gonna clean up the bodies?"

"I'll just throw the pieces in a pile so they won't know who is who," he laughed. I smiled.

"Alright. Spencer, get the cameras; and I'll grab the money from the register and put some food in the car for later. Hurry up, before someone stops here and we have to kill them, too," I said, turning around and beginning to comb through the aisles to find Oreos.