I feel something shaking me.  My eyes open to meet my mother's.

"You slept through your alarm."  She signs and says.  "You'll be late."

"I don't feel well." I weakly sign back.

"What's wrong?"

"My throat hurts and I feel really hot.  My muscles hurt when I move."

"I'll get the thermometer."

She leaves and comes back, sticking it under my tongue.  When she takes it out, her expression turns into shock.

"What is it?" I sign.

"105.  You're burning up.  Do you need me to stay home with you?"

"No.  I can take care of myself."

She nods.  "Okay.  Your father and I will go to work.  Make sure you take a cold shower or two, and try to eat something."

"Okay."

She kisses me on the forehead and leaves the room.  I put in my hearing aids and turn the frequencies to 4.

"Where's Rebecca?"  My father asks.

"She has a fever.  It's 105."

"Oh, god.  Is she fine with being alone?"

"She'll be okay, Billie."

He sighs.  "Okay."

I listen for the front door to close,  When it does, I remove the covers and take off the heating pad I wrapped around my stomach to exaggerate my temperature.  I get dressed in some jeans and a pullover hoodie, taking my empty school bag.  Save for, the photos.

I leave the house, walking down the street past Brendon's. I stop momentarily, thinking.  Curiosity gets the best of me, and I head behind the house to the backyard, hiding behind a wall.  I see Brendon walking out of the shed, wearing a pair of black gloves.  To say that didn't look suspicious even if I didn't know about him would be a lie in of itself. He takes them off, puts them in his pocket, then stops.  Abruptly as if he feels something... watching him.  Shit.

I slip away, venturing forth.  After about 15 minutes, I reach the train station and swipe my Metrocard.  I stand on the platform, waiting.  After about five minutes, it arrives. I step on.

The ride is about ten minutes.  Once I reach my stop, I get off and walk up the steps to reconnoiter.  It's pretty desolate.  The building's right across the street.  I walk inside and to the reception desk, where a blonde haired woman sits.  Her name tag reads Jenna.

"I'm here to visit someone."

"What's your name?"

"Rebecca Armstrong."

"Who do you wish to see?"

"Gerard Way."

"Age?"

"What?"

"Age.  Are you 18?"

"Yes."

She gives me a look of disbelief.  "Really?"

"Does it count that I've been both 8 and 10?"

She shrugs. "I guess.  When's your birthday?"

"In two months, I'll be 18 then."

"Okay.  He's in the back room.  I'll take you there so you don't get lost."

"Thanks."

We walk down the long, white hallway.  The walls are porcelain and it's almost as if I can see my reflection in the floor.  After a minute, we stop outside a grand community - like room.  The patients are wearing white scrubs, and visitors are dressed casually.  There are very few visitors, though.

"He's over there."  Jenna points to a man with long, jet - black hair, sitting concentrated on his sketchbook.

I walk over to the two-person table.  "Gerard?"

He stops and looks up.

"Rebecca."  I extend my hand.  He shakes it as I sit down.  "What're you drawing?"

"I'm working on a comic.  As you're probably aware, I fucking love drawing."  He shows it to me.

"Oh, my god.  This is awesome!  What's it gonna be called?"

"The Umbrella Academy.  About these kids who get superpowers and have to save the world."

"That's so cool!"

"So, what is this?  Are you interviewing me for school, or something?"

"No.  It's a lot more serious than that."  I reach into my bag and take out the photos of Sarah and Ryan."

Gerard looks at them hard.  "She was on the news, wasn't she?"

"Yes. She was his girlfriend."  I say pointing to the photo of Ryan.  "Of course, we both know who killed her."

"Brendon.  How do you know?"

"He told me."

"Brendon... told you?"

I nod.  "He tricked me into helping him kill... him."

"Ryan?"

I nod.

He scoffs.  "I believe it."

"And I believe you, about the fire."

His eyes redirect down.

"Can you tell me exactly what happened?"

He sighs.  "I'll do you one better.  I'll start at the beginning."

I nod.

"I came home after I graduated from art school and saw this moving truck down the street."

"Brendon?"

"Exactly.  He seems so charming, but it's just to gain your trust.  He got along with everyone.  My mom, brother, and boyfriend adored him.  I even opened up to Brendon about my father at times, who died when I was 7.  He said he lost both of his parents in a mysterious house fire when he was 18.  I felt sorry.  We all felt safe around him.  But then..."

"Then what?"

"We invited him for dinner one night.  I noticed he would go into the kitchen a lot of the time when my mother wasn't there.  When she called it was ready, there were teacups next to everyone's plate.  I assumed my mom had made tea, which isn't unusual.  After about five minutes,  I noticed Brendon's cup is still full as I'm sipping my last bit.  Then, I remember blacking out."

"He poisoned you?"

Gerard nods.  "I don't know what he put in there, but I woke up on the kitchen floor to the smell of smoke.  The entire room was on fire, and everyone else was still asleep."

"Where was Brendon?"

"Gone.  I tried to wake them up, but they were knocked out cold.  I had to escape by breaking a window."

"Why'd you think Brendon was gonna kill you?"

"I saw him."

"What do you mean?"

"When I escaped, I saw Brendon standing on his front lawn, just giving me this hard glare.  From that look, I knew... he had done everything.  He didn't look too happy that I had survived."

"So you came here?"

"I had a bad feeling that night.  From that look it seemed like... he had done this before."

"How did you think?"

"Do you still believe the fire that killed his parents was mysterious?"

"Oh, shit."  I realize.

"Why do you need to know all this, anyway?  How do you even know Brendon?"

"He moved in next door to me."

Gerard's eyes widen.  "When?"

"A few weeks ago.  So it's true, he's a murderer?"

"Yes, for God's sake!"

"I need to catch him.  How?"

"Rebecca, listen to me.  You're gonna need evidence.  Someway, somehow, you need to find some.  The cops aren't going to believe you no matter what you just tell them.  Trust me, I know."

"I remember seeing Sarah's pendant at his house."

"That's good, but not enough.  If you only have the pendant, they'll assume you found it somewhere."

"What else do I need?"

"I don't know, maybe Brendon has a planner, or journal or something."

"I'll have to check it out.  I can't believe this, what insane human just murders innocent people for fun?  Why?"

"Because he's a psychopath.  Psychopaths get bored.  From this day forth, I assume every dead person that ends up on the news, Brendon Urie is the one who put them there.  He's a freak."

"I know."

"But, he's kinda hot."

I shoot Gerard a glare.  "Did you say he's hot?"

He nods.  "Yep."

"Uh, okay."

"You have to prove his psychotic tendencies.  The world needs this man behind bars."  He reaches into his scrub shirt pocket and takes out a polaroid.  It's one of him, his mother, brother, and boyfriend.  "The blonde one's Mikey."

"Is the other one your boyfriend?"

He nods.  "Frank. This was taken the day before the fire."

"Who took it?"

Without word, Gerard calmly puts it back in his pocket.  It must've been Brendon.  "He seems normal one day, and the next he kills your family."  Definitely Brendon. 

"He won't kill anyone else before I gather evidence.  That's a promise."

He looks at me with a blank expression.  "He'll know you were here."

I nod.  "Most likely, but the promise still stands."  I arise from my chair and gather my things.  "Thank you."  I walk away.

"Rebecca!"  he calls, making me stop.  "Be careful."

"I will."  I say as I depart.