What A Catch, Donnie

Some Ryden feels that I thought up while talking to the best person ever. This is dedicated to her. Thank you so much Jaimee, for sticking with me and keeping me alive every day. I love you. 3

Word count: 1,467

Warnings: angst ugh, attempted suicide, really fluffy ending

"That's it, Brendon! I'm fucking done! Everything is always about you! Did you ever stop to think about how Spencer, Jon, and I feel?! No, you don't, because you can't seem to get the fact that the world doesn't revolve around you through your thick skull!" Ryan finally snapped, more pissed than anyone in the band had ever seen him.

Brendon shrunk back. "R-Ryan, what-"

Ryan rudely cut him off. "I don't want to fucking hear any of the bullshit excuses that will come out of your mouth. Jon and I have discussed it, and we're leaving Panic!. Spencer can come if he wants, but we'll be out of here in about an hour." He stalked off to the back of the bus to collect his stuff, Jon following.

Brendon just stood there, trembling, with tears rolling down his face. Turning to Spencer, he asked "W-what did I do?" and when Spencer just shrugged, wide-eyed, Brendon shrunk to floor, sobbing. "H-he can't leave," he stuttered, "I love him, I need him. He helped me when no one else could, we've always been there for each other. He can't just leave like this, and throw everything we have away!" Brendon started getting angry, and stood up, furiously wiping the tears off of his face. "What the fuck did I even do, Ryan?!" he shouted. "Did I really mess up, or are you making a new band because you can't stand the fact that I'm the singer? Is that it, attention whore?!"

"What the actual fuck did you just call me?!" Ryan flew out of the bunk area, livid.

"A goddamn attention whore, are you deaf, too? You're just going to throw away everything, the band we've worked so hard to build, oh yeah, and what about our relationship?! We've been together through it all and suddenly you're leaving, just like that? I can't have done anything that bad, y'know!" Brendon was in Ryan's face at this point, angry, red-faced, and tears dripping down his cheeks.

"I'm leaving right now." Ryan grabbed his bag full of essentials and threw open the door. "Someone will come get my stuff whenever. Good riddance, Brendon fucking Urie."

The door slammed shut, shaking the bus with the impact.

"Fuck!" Brendon broke down, sobbing, screaming, throwing anything he could get his hands on, including his phone, which shattered the second it came in contact with the wall. Finally he fell to the ground, Spencer slowly emerging from his safe spot to try to comfort him.

"Bren? Are you okay?" Spencer realized how stupid the question was right after he said it.

"Does it look like I'm fucking okay?" Brendon sniffled.

"No… c'mon, let's get you some chocolate and I'll get you tucked into bed. We can talk in the morning." Spencer helped him up, grabbing a Hershey bar out of the freezer and leading him to the bunks. Making sure Brendon was comfortable, he went to the living room.

Brendon lay there, thinking. What's wrong with me? Why does everyone leave? Why me, why me why me?! He threw the covers off, standing up and pacing. Making his decision quickly, he started towards the bathroom, hoping what he needed was still there. Opening the cabinet, he was relieved. There sat a bottle of giant pills that Jon had needed when he somehow had about three different diseases at once (what the fuck how did he even manage to do that), and he grabbed them, popping open the cap. Filling a paper cup with water, he downed about seven before his vision began to go black. Brendon dropped the pill bottle, the remnants noisily falling to the linoleum floor, and passed out, narrowly missing smacking his head on the toilet on his way down.

In the living area, Spencer heard a few crashes, and, worried Brendon was throwing things out of rage again, went to check on him. "Brendon? Bren, don't throw things again, you'll only regret it la-"

Spencer screamed.

He had opened the bathroom door to his best friend barely alive on the floor. Fumbling for his cell phone, he called 911 and prayed that Brendon would make it.

Groggy, Brendon sat up, only to fall back down and moan at the pain in his head. "Ugh, where the fuck am I?" Remembering what he had done, he opened his eyes quickly. "Am I finally dead?"

"Nope, you're still stuck with us," a voice sounded from the corner.

Looking over, Brendon saw the voice belonged to none other than Pete, Patrick seated next to him.

"Pete, Patrick! What're you doing here?" he asked.

"Uh, we're besties, remember?" Pete rolled his eyes. "Geez, you are delirious."

"Who the fuck says besties?" Patrick mumbled.

"Me, bestie." Pete retorted.

Brendon grinned. "You guys haven't changed." Then, reality setting back in made him feel nauseous. "Oh, yeah. I'm in the crazy ward, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but, 'Victims. Aren't we all?'" Pete smirked.

"Are you quoting the fucking Crow now, Pete?" Patrick reprimanded him.

"Hell yeah, I am. It's always appropriate. Plus you love me too much to be mad at me anyway."

"Damn, got me there," he said, linking their hands.

"Anyway, we're here to make you feel like the best person to ever exist," Pete turned back to Brendon. "Just call us your bitches, that's basically what we are."

"Pete, stop!" Patrick smacked the back of his head gently.

Brendon just laughed. "Thanks guys, I'm feeling better already."

They smiled at him.

"BRENDON URIE OF PANIC! AT THE DISCO ATTEMPTS SUICIDE"

Ryan stood gaping at the headline. "What?!" He turns to the newspaper stand owner quickly. "One, please." Ryan gave him the money and snatched up the magazine. Turning to the article quickly, he read through it quickly, until he got to the words that made his blood run cold.

"According to sources, the main (perhaps not the only) reason to this attempt on his own life is due to the band's guitarist, Ryan Ross, also his ex-boyfriend, storming out on the band and the relationship. He is currently under the close watch of Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump of Fall Out Boy. Touring should resume soon."

His fault.

Everything was his fault. And he didn't know if he could fix it this time.

But he had an idea.

"First show since… you know. You ready?" Spencer asked Brendon.

"Yeah, I think so. It'll be really weird, but I can do it, for the fans."

"If you need to stop, just tell me. We can cut it off, they'll understand. Now, let's do this," Spencer grinned and slapped him on the back.

Taking a breath, Brendon ran onto the stage. "Hello, Cleveland, Ohio!"

After the show, Brendon was chatting animatedly with Pete about how crazy fans could be when Pete suddenly froze, a terrifying glare making its way onto his face at something behind Brendon.

"What is it?" Brendon turned around greeted with the sight of-

"Ryan," he breathed. Trying to step backwards towards Pete, he tripped and almost fell before he felt arms wrap around him.

Ryan's arms.

Brendon flinches away, shoving Ryan off and scowling. "Why the fuck are you here?"

"To apologize. I didn't mean a thing I said that night, I was just jealous that everyone is just able to love you so easily, you know? You're beautiful, the best thing to ever happen to me, and I threw that away for what? Attention? I was so wrong, B, so wrong, and I just need you to forgive me or I don't know how I'll go on living, when I heard that I almost made you d-die, I couldn't live with myself, I still hate myself for it, I just hope we can get past the hate and go back to loving each other like we used to." Ryan is out of breath by the end of his speech, and his face is red, and he's crying, but he looks up, and-

So is Brendon.

"I wish I didn't love you so much, Ryan Ross," he whispers before grabbing Ryan and crashing their lips together, kissing him with everything he's been feeling since that one night, and it's magical, better than any kiss they've ever shared. Brendon smiles and thinks,

Finally. I'm finally glad to be me.

Feeling him smile, Ryan pulls away, and asks, "What?"

Brendon just grins at him. "Oh, nothing."

Nothing at all…