Brendon normally spent his time in his room while his family were together. His parents didn't like having him around because of what he was. Everyone in town knew what he liked to do. He couldn't help it though. If he could change it, he would.

Now, he was crouched in the corner of his closet with his hands over his mouth to keep any noise from coming out. Now, his family was paying the price of his malfunction. He heard about this group and what they did. He didn't believe it at first. How could someone be so cruel?

He flinched and squeezed his eyes shut when a gun shot sounded through the house. He tried to slow his breathing and stop his shaking when another shot rang in his ears. He swallowed the lump in his throat as tears decorated his cheeks. His body jerked with another fire.

They were looking for him and he knew that. He let out a weak whimper when he heard heavy boots coming up the stairs. How was he going to get out of this? He could handle getting jumped by his classmates after school, but they never had a gun.

The steps inched closer until they stopped outside his room. The door creaked open. Brendon tried to make himself as small as possible even though he knew it was pointless. The closet door swung open and his clothes were pushed out of the way.

Before Brendon could react, a pair of hands grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him out of his hiding spot. He was tossed across the floor, hitting his bed in the process. Brendon scrambled into a seated position, his back pressed against his bed.

His eyes traveled up the uniformed man towering over him. As much as he wanted to deny the rumors about what was being done to his 'kind', he couldn't deny the man standing in front of him.

"Brendon Urie." The man's deep voice gave Brendon an uneasy feeling. "Under the order of Dylan Price, you are being relocated to Summerlin for correction." Brendon's heart was ready to beat out of his chest. If the rumors were anything to go by, correction was far from painless.

There were people out there who didn't like people like Brendon. There were people like Brent Wilson who only sent Brendon home with bruises. Then, there were people like Dylan Price who made people like Brendon disappear. He shook his head causing the man to frown.

"I'd listen if I were you. Don't wanna make things worse for yourself, do you?"

"Where's my family?" Brendon whimpered, not wanting to believe what was going on.

"They're waiting. I'll take you to them." Brendon kept his eyes locked with the man for a second. Before he let himself think, he got up and ran out the door. He didn't get far before he was slammed face first against the hallway wall.

The man's body was pressed against Brendon's. Brendon started tearing up when he felt the man's hardening dick being pushed against his ass. He was hoping this was all just a bad dream and he'll wake up soon.

"I bet you like this don't you? A filthy whore like yourself loves being put in this position." Brendon would shake his head if the man didn't have a fist full of his hair to keep his head pinned against the wall.

Guess these rumors were true too. 'Straight' men taking advantage of people like Brendon to show his inferiority. Brendon never understood the logic of the situation. Men like his captor didn't see it as wrong because they were still in the dominant position.

Brendon's body shivered when he felt the man's breath against his neck. A foreign hand came to the cup his ass. Brendon squirmed but could barely move in his position. He felt his panic heighten when he felt the tug at his jeans.

Out of pure terror, Brendon managed to get an arm free to elbow the man in the gut. For a split second, the pressure against him lessened. He used it as his opportunity to pull himself free and hurry down the hall.

He feet began failing him, causing him to stumble over small things as he pushed himself faster than he could physically go. He was tackled down not long after his escape. He fought himself onto his back then froze.

"I told you to listen." The tears were falling freely down Brendon's face now.

"I'm sorry," he cried. The metal of a gun pressed against his temple.

"It's too late for that." Brendon shut his eyes. He wasn't ready to die. He was still so young, barely eighteen. "What a shame. You're a pretty one."

Brendon tried not to gag when a pair of lips pressed against his own. He turned his head to the side and let out a sob. A dirty hand gripped his jaw, forcing his head forward. He shook as chapped lips connected with his again.

Brendon brought hand up to the man's wrist and tried pushing the gun away from his head. He felt the force fighting against him. 

"Don't move." He gave it all his power to push it away when he heard the gun being cocked. His other hand came up to wrestle the gun away. He felt the muscles move in the man's wrist as he tried pushing away. His ears rang with the sound of a deafening shot.

The pressure over his body increased, making it hard to breath. Brendon's breath was fast and labored. He managed to push the motionless body off himself and crawl back until he was pressed against the wall. He felt something dripping down the side of his face.

He brought his hand up and touched the liquid. His eyes moved to the crimson color covering his hand to the body in front of him.

"Oh my god," he whispered. "Oh my god... Oh My God." He pulled himself up the wall, leaving a bloody handprint. He made it to the stairs without getting stopped and hurried down them. He stopped quick when he made it to the living room.

Fresh tears sprang from his eyes. He took in the scene with guilt weighing on his shoulders. Slowly, he walked toward his family. He didn't let his eyes linger on the bodies too long or at least he tried not to.

He failed when he saw a small figure. He let out a pained gasp and fell to his knees next to his little sister.

"Lily?" He scanned her peaceful face. "Lily," he repeated softly. "Wake up." He loved his family a lot now matter how they treated him, but Lily held a special place in his heart. She was the only one out of his parents and four other siblings who actually accepted him for who he was.

'So you like boys like how sissy likes boy?'

'Yeah, but I'm still your big brother. Nothing's changed.'

'Am I still your flower?' Brendon smiled.

'Yes, Lily. You're still my flower.'

'Okay!'

'Is that okay? That I like boys?'

'If you're happy, then I'm happy.'

Brendon shook his head, trying to shake away the memory. He wiped away his tears and pulled Lily onto his lap.

"Come on, flower. It's time to wake up." He shook her gently in his arms. "Be the good little girl I know you are and wake up for your big brother yeah?" His bottom lip quivered. "Lily, please." He pulled her body against his chest and rocked them both gently.

"Wake up... please wake up... please."

"Johnson! You alright in there?" Brendon snapped his head to the front door. There were more of them. He should've known. He turned his attention back to Lily and kissed her head softly.

"I have to go, Lily," he whispered, not getting a response. He set her back down gently. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he let out in small, chocked breaths. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." He looked around the room before turning and running to the back door.

When he got outside, he was met with a few more uniformed men, guns clutched in their hands. When they saw Brendon, their guns went up to aim at Brendon. His hands went up in surrender.

"Where's Thomas?" Brendon took a step back. He wasn't going to tell them that 'Thomas' was face down upstairs.

"D-don't s-sho-ot." He flinched at the sound of the guns cocking. He squeezed his eyes shut. He really didn't think this was how he'd die. He took a shaky breath and tried to prepare himself.

"Wait!" He hesitantly opened his eyes to see a man pushing passed the small line of men. When he emerged, the man let out a happy laugh. "Klaus?" He made a sprint toward Brendon and pulled him into a hug.

"I can't believe I found you." Brendon was tense under the new man's touch. He felt a soft breath against his ear. "Go along if you want to live."

Brendon let out a stuttered breath and wrapped his arms around the stranger. He was grateful for the man and hoped he wasn't making a mistake by trusting him.

"My name's Dave." Brendon's grip tightened around his savior. He wept softly into Dave's shoulder. "You're safe now." He squeezed his eyes shut and let the man run a comforting hand over his back.

"Thank you."