We Used to See with Wide Eyes

It took me until well after the funeral to go back to the diner.

Finally, I decided I needed to be there for Mac, or maybe it was the other way around, but no matter I was going back. I hoped with every fiber of my being that could still hope that Brendon wasn't here and that he'd run for good. My defenses would be no match for his charm and false front of kindness.

I suppose the world has its own ways of working things out, though, because when I walked through the diner the door, the first person to meet my eyes was the very boy in question. Right then and there I almost backed out of the door and left. The expression on his face, however, drew me in.

Looking surprised but pleased he made his way over, but when he actually reached me he looked unsure of what to do, probably not wanting me to freak out again and run. So all he said was, "I've missed you."

That was all it took to send me running into his arms, initiating our first ever hug. Surprised, it took him a minute to react but then he was hugging me back just as fiercely. "I missed you too," I whispered into his neck, maybe he hadn't left for good.

It was then that I realized we were the only ones in the diner. I had decided to come at closing so there would be less people, but I would've liked at least someone else here to keep things from getting out of hand. But no, it was just Brendon and I.

After minutes went by we slowly released each other, both unsure of where to go next. The moment had gotten me flustered and I could feel a swooping sensation in my stomach as I blinked more rapidly.

"Oh Parker," he said softly, reaching out and smoothing back my hair, "I'm sorry."

Slightly unnerved by the uncharacteristically bold move into my personal space, I steeled myself and looked into his eyes seeing sorrow and regret etched into his expression. I nodded solemnly, a lump in the back of my throat kept me from saying anything.

His hand moved down to my cheek and soon he was wiping a silent tear away, one that I didn’t even know existed, "I should've been here. I never wanted to hurt you."

I nodded again, but the blood was started to boil up in my veins.

The back of his fingers stroked along my jaw line in a gesture that I suppose he thought was soothing, "I'm so sorry."

He was way too close to me. I couldn't take it anymore and I turned my head away, trying to ignore how quickly he withdrew his hand.

Hot fears of frustration were starting to prickle at the edges of my eyes but I blinked them back, and as I spoke my voice was surprisingly loud, "I know you're sorry. I know you didn't want to hurt me. So stop saying it because no matter what, the truth is…"

I made move to touch him but pulled my hand back at the last second like I had been burned.

I took a deep, shaking breath, "The truth is, Brendon, that you did hurt me. You left. And… and… that's not even what I'm mad about. It was just really bad timing. And I didn't know... But you have a life and you don't have to tell me everything. I know that… but," and then I stopped.

My voice was thick with my unshed tears and I realized that I was letting him in. I'm scared of what he'll know. I couldn't do it, I couldn't force out the words that I desperately wanted to say to him so I turned to do one of my best methods of coping, to flee.

Brendon had a different idea.

"But what?" he asked whirling me around to face him, so that my face was inches from his. His hands were clenched on my shoulder holding me in place and he looked more serious than I've ever seen him. His lips were pressed together impossibly thin and the rest of his usually expressive face was stoic.

He was waiting for my answer.

"Everyone leaves!" I exclaimed, throwing up my hands and crying out in misery looking to the ceiling, finally saying out loud what I've known for a long time, "Everyone leaves… Everyone leaves me. Everyone leaves me, Brendon, and," my voice grew soft and my eyes flickered back to his, "you left me too and I didn't think you were coming back."

He flinched, and his mouth was moving but I couldn't hear.

My knees were wobbling and my head started to pound and I knew the blackness would take me soon but I fought it. He sensed my weakness and his holding grip on my shoulders moved to help support me. This was one time when I didn't want to remember because right now was more important than anything in the past. This was more important than anything.

I forced myself to concentrate on Brendon's face in front of me. As he slowly blinked, his long eyelashes brushed his cheekbones. His dark eyes were teaming with emotions that were gone the next, only to be replaced by others. He was so damn hard to read. I've always felt like he could read me, or at least more than I could ever see in him. He had that knack for knowing when I was lying or hiding something, yet he let on nothing.

A thought appeared at the edges of my mind, replacing the threatening blackness and bringing strength back into my legs, what if he actually cared? I pushed it back, just like the memory, but I didn't reject it. It had instilled a foreign sense of hope in me.

My concentration turned to what Brendon was saying, "Why would you think that?" he asked again, so that I could hear the very same sense of betrayal that I felt, echoed in his voice.

He cared.

My heart soared. I was so happy, but at the same time I was terrified. Nothing like this had ever happened to me. My vision completely blurred for a moment and then cleared as the first tears fell out of my eyes. My words sounded hitched and quavering as I replied, "Everyone leaves, I told you, everyone leaves. And you never told me that you were –"

"Who has left, Parker?" Brendon asked cutting me off, like he too was frustrated that I didn't understand something, "You never tell me anything! How am I supposed to be there for you when you tell me nothing?" He was blinking rapidly and his accusing tone made an unexpected emotion erupt in me, anger. I wasn't afraid to challenge him.

I was mad.

I shrugged his hands off my shoulders, he was so aggravating and I felt constricted by his touch. I was royally pissed off and I intended to make that clear, "Well, Brendon Urie, did you ever think for one second that maybe it hurts too much to talk about? Did you ever think about that?"

He ignored my questions, launching straight into his own looking just as angry as I did, "You think you're the only one who has issues, Miss Queen of Pain. You think you're the only person to have lost someone that you care about? …To have lost family?"

"No, I haven't ever thought that for one second and you can spare the dramatics," I spat, he doesn't need to patronize me,"And if you were talking about yourself then you are a hypocrite. I don't tell you anything? You don't tell meanything!"

We glared at each other, holding the crackling gaze, both determined not to be the first one to give in. As time grew on, however, my anger seemed to slowly fade away, leaving that residue of hurt. I don't want to be mad at, Brendon, and I certainly don't want to push away the one person that I can depend on.

He realized this too, and he was the one brave enough to speak up first, "I know you don't necessarily want to hear it again, but it needs to be said. I'm sorry."

I didn't say anything, I wanted to forgive him, but he had hurt me and so I moved my gaze away from his intense eyes to the floor tiles that always called my name in uncomfortable situations.

As usual, Brendon seemed to have the amazing knack to ruin these attempts to avoid any unwanted feelings, he waited in silence until it began to press down on me and I had to look back up to his face. My palms started to sweat.

His eyes were waiting for mine and once they got there, he continued with sincerity, "I did leave a note with Mac saying that I was leaving, but you obviously didn't get it. I should've told you in person."

I nodded stiffly.

He tentatively reached out and took my hand in his, and as our hands slipping together I looked up just in time to see him sniffle.

"Were you crying?" I asked incredulously, feeling my spirits lift slightly, wiping a few of my own tears away.

"No," he said bluntly, and sent me one of his smiles that could light up the room, "I have a cold."

An obvious lie.

I rolled my eyes at the common male complex, "I'm sure you do."

"Aw, come here, Parks," he held open his arms.

I blanched for a second at the all too familiar nickname but then willing walked his warm embrace. Brendon was one of the few people that made me feel like I was really cared about. In his arms was one of the places that I felt safe.

He cares.