Scared (Patrick Stump Imagine Short Story)

Part 1

You're in your bedroom, tears brimming your eyes as you throw your clothes into a suitcase on your bed. Your four year old daughter, Gabby, is sitting at the head of the bed, preoccupied with playing on your phone.

You hear the front door click open and you freeze in your tracks, your cheeks flushing of all color.

"Daddy?" Gabby asks, looking up from your phone.

"No no no," You whisper under your breath, dropping the clothes you had in your hands to the ground and rushing up to her, grabbing her attention, "No, Gabby. Do not say his name."

"Daddy!" She shouts, setting your phone aside and climbing off of the bed.

"Gabby!" You try to catch her before she leaves the room but she's too quick.

You heave a sigh and run your fingers through your hair, tears streaming down your face.

"Hey, honey," You hear him greet his daughter. He picks her up and gives her a kiss on the cheek. "Where's Mommy?"

She points back to the bedroom you're rushing to pack the rest of your things in it. "She's packing her things," She answers him modestly.

"P-Packing her things? L-Leaving?" He repeats, setting down Gabby and walking into the bedroom. By the time he gets there, your suitcase is zipped up and is sitting by your feet, ready for you to pick it up and leave with. Your arms are crossed over your chest as he asks you, "W-What's going on, (Y/N)?"

"You know what," You retort coldly, your eyes narrowing.

He swallows hard, "You can't do this, (Y/N). Y-You're overreacting...just, unpack your bags and come downstairs. I'll make dinner for us. Sound good?"

"No, Patrick, I'm done." You stand your ground. "You crossed the line yesterday and I'm not going to stand for what you did."

"It was a mistake, (Y/N)," He tries to convince you, taking a step closer to you, "I-I was angry and...and I fucked up. And I can't tell you how sorry I am. B-But you don't need to leave."

"Oh, I'm not just leaving," You reply, taking a step closer to him and smirking, "I'm taking Gabby with me too." His eyes widen in horror. "Yeah. And I'm also filing for divorce, and once the divorce is final, I'm going to fight for full custody of her. Because I don't want her getting hurt. And I don't want her seeing you like that again." Before he can speak, you continue on, "And don't you promise it won't happen again, because you can't promise something like that."

"(Y/N)! Please! Stop saying things like that! You don't mean it!"

"But that's where you're wrong, Patrick. Because I do. I don't want to leave you, I really don't. You're the man I've devoted myself to for almost ten years of my life. Of course I don't want to leave you. But what you did last night...I didn't deserve that. Drop all the 'I'm sorry's you want, but I don't think I'm even going to be able to forgive you, let alone look at you the same way I used to."

"You can't tear our family apart like this, (Y/N), you just can't!"

"Patrick, you tore our family apart the minute you raised your hand to hit me!" You scream, "All I'm doing is looking out for my daughter! What if I stay and you get angry again? Are you going to hit me again? Maybe you'll hit her!"

"I would never!"

"You said the same thing about me and look what happened! So how the hell do you expect me to believe a goddamn word that comes out of your mouth, Patrick?"

By now the two of you are yelling in each other's faces and your daughter is standing in the threshold of yours and Patrick's bedroom and the upstairs hallway, watching the two of you in fear.

"(Y/N), I promise! It was one night and I wasn't thinking!"

You shake your head, "It doesn't matter, Patrick. What matters is that you did it. And I'm done. I'm not going going to put up with this." You pick up your suitcase with one hand and leave the room, grabbing Gabby's hand with your other one and dragging her down the hallway with you.

"(Y/N)!" Patrick shouts to you as you race down the stairs, ignoring him. Your daughter stumbles along behind you. "(Y/N)! STOP!"

You rush out the front door, shouting to your daughter to come on. You help her into the backseat of your car, throwing your suitcase in there as well, and close the door behind her.

Patrick dashes down the stairs and stops in the front door, watching as you hop in the driver's seat and start the car up.

You look over your shoulder and back out of the driveway, pulling out into the road. You take one quick glance at Patrick who's standing the doorway, his chest rising up and down rapidly and a look of remorse on his face, before you switch gears and press down on the gas pedal, leaving the house the two of you lived in behind and heading for your mother's house.