Dallon definitely felt better the next day, but the sickness was almost replaced by a fear. Ryan's insane words and laughter seemed to haunt Dallon's thoughts as he looked through his wardrobe.

What if he ended up deranged? What would that even be like, to be considered insane?..

Dallon shook away the thoughts as he grabbed a baseball tee to slip over his head. He knew Brendon by now... At least, he knew a fraction of Brendon; he wasn't the most straightforward man.

Dallon quickly moved into his bathroom to fix his hair. He grabbed up his brush, but hesitated at looking in the mirror. The image of his own blood splattered face flashed over his thoughts like a spotlight.

"Stop it!" He muttered to himself. He shook his head again and looked up to quiff up his hair, but quickly gave up. His hair flopped uselessly to the sides in an uncooperative defiance of being styled. "Have it your way." He muttered once again, tossing his brush on the counter and instead quickly running his fingers through his hair.

Once satisfied, he moved back into his bedroom, where his cellphone was pinging softly. Dallon scooped it into his hand from off the bed sheets and checked it.

It was a message from Brendon.

I hope you feel well enough to come over!

I have a surprise for you
☺

Dallon felt his stomach knot at the message. Usually, this would seem like such a sweet thing but, after Ryan, now it made him nervous. There was obviously a side of Brendon that Dallon wasn't fully aware of, he was sure of it after Ryan's crazed ramblings.

"I still don't know the full story..." Dallon reasoned with himself, trying to calm his nerves. "It could be nothing..." He paused when he realized he was simply talking to the empty air around him; he was talking out loud to himself "I must already be insane."

---

Dallon shook his fingers through his hair as he walked up to Brendon's studio. The sky was dull in tone, thanks to the gray clouds, and a cool breeze swept down the street. It almost made Dallon backtrack, honestly. He could use the weather as an excuse as to why he needed to stay home; he didn't want to recatch the sickness he had just shaken off.

Dallon didn't utilize the excuse, however. Instead, he walked up to the gate and knocked. A smile found his face when Brendon opened the door. Brendon was wearing a loose fitting, paint stained shirt and dark, paint stained pants.

"Dallon!" Brendon extended his arms, resting his hands on Dallon's shoulders. He then bounced on his toes and pressed a kiss to Dallon's lips. "I hope you're feeling better? It's so good to see you." Brendon smiled affectionately at him.

Dallon felt eased by Brendon's smile as the darker haired boy pulled away. "It's good to see you too."

"Come in! There's a downpour up north that's heading this way." Brendon gestured Dallon inside.

Dallon moved into the small yard between the wall and building. He was turning to look at Brendon when he noticed another figure in the space. It was a uniformed man with a badge standing out against the dark fabric on his chest.

Dallon froze. Why was there an officer in Brendon's yard? He almost jumped when Brendon's hand pressed delicately against his back.

"Dallon, this is officer Smith." Brendon spoke casually while rubbing Dallon's back soothingly, "There was an issue at my gallery while I was away, and the officer is taking a statement."

"Hello, sir." The officer nodded, sticking out his hand to Dallon. Dallon nodded with a muttered 'hello' in response, extending his hand to shake the officer's. Brendon's hand froze on Dallon's back for just a moment. When the officer and Dallon pulled their hands away from one another's, Brendon tapped Dallon's back with the lightest touch.

"Well, I think that's all I need, Mr. Urie. I'll leave you to your business." Officer Smith said, turning his attention to Brendon. "We'll try to find who broke into your gallery."

Brendon smiled, "Thank you, officer." He pulled his hand from Dallon's back and moved to the gate.

The officer said something quietly to Brendon as he left the yard. Dallon stood nervously in the middle of the yard waiting for Brendon to shut the gate.

"What happened?" He asked.

Brendon hummed in question as he turned away from the wall door. "Oh, some shattered glass, some destroyed works..."

"Aren't you upset?" Dallon asked, confused by Brendon's casualness.

Brendon shook his head. "Art comes and goes, much like people. I can create more, I can duplicate electronically, but the only thing I really lost was the moment the art was created in." A frown traced Brendon's lips as he pushed the door of his studio open. "That is regrettable."

Dallon stayed where he stood on the grass. He had heard nothing about a studio, or any building, being broke into during the time Brendon was gone. Although he hadn't paid much mind to the news, Sara had. She had relayed most of the recent news stories after bringing tea back to his room the previous day.

Brendon was passionate about his art, how could be so unphased when some got destroyed at the gallery he had been planning? The gallery that Dallon had yet to see for himself...

"Dallon!" Brendon's smooth laughter pulled Dallon back to the current moment. The darker haired boy smiled from the studio doorway. "I have a surprise for you! Come in, please."

Dallon stepped towards Brendon with unsureness. Even that suave smile that the artist always offered wasn't wavering Dallon's uneasiness.

"You mentioned how you like my neon lights." Brendon Said as he reached out for Dallon's hand, "I remember a quote of yours as well, only slightly modified." He had an eager look in his eye as he pulled Dallon into the studio. There was almost a hopefulness hidden behind the eagerness. "Now that he's gone, I hope you'll remember."

Dallon's brow furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

Brendon released his hand and moved to a sheet that was draped over something. Brendon looked over Dallon's features with a mixed expression, that Dallon couldn't distinguish, before pulling the sheet away.

Dallon was left looking at bright, blue neon lighting that spelled out a short phrase.

I can't remember
I can't forget

The bottom half of the phrase was almost like a mirror to the first half in it's upside down positioning. Dallon understood the first half, because he never remembered saying a phrase anywhere similar to that.

"You don't like it?" Brendon asked. A sad confusion covered his expression now. His usual debonair nature was absent.

"I don't get it!" Dallon exclaimed, taking a step back. "Brendon, when have I ever said anything remotely similar-"

Brendon threw his head back with a groan. He shook his head as he straightened himself out. "You're not thinking, Dallon, Please!" Brendon stepped forward and grabbed Dallon's wrist.

Dallon tried to pull away, but Brendon's grip was firm. He fearfully looked up at the darker haired boy, unable to make out the emotions on his face.

"Dallon, I'm so tired of playing the games." His tone had a hit of desperation to it when he spoke of being tired. If Dallon wasn't being held in his grip, he could almost feel sorry for him. "It's time to wake up."

"Is this what you did to Ryan?" Dallon asked, feeling his heart beat against his chest. "Manipulate him to insanity?"

Brendon's eyes grew wide, "You saw him?"

"I saw what he said you did to him." Dallon said, still attempting to tug against Brendon's grip. "Is that what you're planning to do to me?"

Brendon's expression was blank for a moment before he flat out began to laugh in Dallon's face. Dallon felt fear wash over him, watching Brendon laugh.

"You passed the test brilliantly, Dallon, it was really like you had no idea who I was." He smiled as his laughter died down.

Dallon felt horrified. Was he supposed to realize who Brendon was now? "W-what is that supposed to mean!?"

Brendon shook his head, tightening his grip on Dallon's wrist. "You always retract back into your own head, Dallon." He said before looking up into Dallon's eyes and whispering, "Stay awake this time..."