Patrick Stump Imagines

Run p.3

3:50 - Patrick: That explains why your mom flew out of the house... Just glad I got away before she got to me. Where are you now?

You smiled down at your phone. After you sent Patrick your location, you looked around for a place to sit. You spotted a bench a few feet away and walked over to sit down.

During the time you were alone, you noticed how peaceful life can be without having your mother around. The birds around you were singing, flying away and to each other. The soft breeze blew your hair into your face, making it look like you were posing for a shot. Cars drove by you every few minutes, some turning into the small parking lot the restaurant had. A smile creeped upon your face. You wanted to stay this at peace forever.

Patrick pulled up in his small car moments later. He honked his little horn and parked the car waiting for you. You sighed, getting up from the bench and making your way over to Patrick. You opened the passengers door and before you even sat down, Patrick started commenting on anything and everything you didn't want to think about.

"Man, when your mom came flying out of your house, it looked like she was out for blood. She came out screaming 'You did this to my daughter! You're such a bad influence!'. I'm seriously glad I drove away before she got to me." Patrick told you as he pulled out of the parking lot.

When Patrick mentioned your mom, the good mood you were just in vanished. Just the slightest mention of her could bring down a party thrown for a 2 year old. You pulled your legs up to your chest and hung your head low. Tears started to flood your eyes as you pulled your legs closer to you. Everything's fallen apart.

"I'm never gonna have normal life... Am I?" You asked Patrick, out of the blue. He turned his attention to you and then back to the road, concerned about what you're saying. " Why couldn't I just be a normal girl, who doesn't suffer from severe anxiety and mild depression. I-I just had to be a fuck up... Nothing goes right for m-me..." Your voice shook every time you said a word. Emotions flooded your brain, but none of them could be identified. You were a complete, emotional wreck.

Patrick sighed, putting his hand on your knee, rubbing small circles around your bone to try and calm you down. He didn't know what to do. This is the worst you've ever been since your mom turned on you. Instead of saying anything, he just stayed silent, letting you continue your rant.

"She can't even see her own daughter... breaking right in front of her with every word she spits... Y-you should have heard her lately Patrick. She always tells me I'm useless, that she doesn't know why she had me if I don't help her... It's like she doesn't know anything about mental illness or hormones... I can't stand it there, Patrick. That place is like hell to me... W-why is it always ME." You punched the dashboard of the car, making a small dent in it. The sudden outburst startled Patrick, making him almost swerve into the next lane. The pain in your hand surged through your entire arm, but this pain didn't bother you. It's the emotional pain that tore you apart.

Tears are streaming down your face now. You curled up next to the car door, closing your eyes hoping this is all just a dream. A dream that just hasn't ended yet. Patrick kept driving as you sobbed into your knees, exhausted from everything that's happened.

You were asleep by the time you got to his house. Patrick sighed to himself as he looked over at you. The small body curled up against the door, eyes closed tight with tears stained onto your cheeks, and mouth slightly open. If someone else saw you right now, they probably would think that nothing was wrong with you. That you were just exhausted from being out all day, crying because of a bad dream you were having. But none of that is reality.

Patrick got out of the car and went around to your door. He carefully opened the door, making sure you wouldn't fall out of your seat. Gently, he wrapped his arms under your legs and around your back, picking you up bridal style, and took you inside his house, up to his room where he laid you down on his bed.

You lay half awake on his bed when Patrick pulls a blanket over you. Patrick's eyes glistened with concern, watching your chest go up and down as you breathe. All he wants for you right now is happiness, but he doesn't know how to help you. He pulls the blanket up slightly so he can sneak in next to you. His arms pulled you closer to him, his head right up against your neck.

"It kills me to see you like this, Y/N.... I'd rather be the one going through this so you don't have to be. You don't deserve this. All you deserve is happiness...." Patrick paused for a moment to kiss the back of your head. "I'm not letting you go back there... I swear on my life I won't let you go back. You're staying here, with me. I will fight my mom into letting you stay here secretly. I love you, Y/N... I can't let you break again."

"Thank you, Patrick..." You mumbled against the blanket. Patrick's arms around you tightened, and his heart rate quickened because of the sound of your voice. "I love you, too..." You mumbled again, drifting back to sleep in Patrick's arms.

The end

Fairly (local) long Authors Note/ramble.
When I first posted this little 3 part story, I thought about not putting in the authors note at the end of the first one, because everything with my mom almost stopped... Boy, I was wrong.

Today, I've been slowly coming to the realization that I'm probably being emotionally abused by my mom, and partially my dad. They yell at me for one thing, seconds later they're making jokes and smiling at me. I feel like I'm being controlled by ten most of the time. I'm forced to do things I don't really wanna do, like go to Church. And when I don't go to Church, they threaten me, and won't let me leave the house.

They do so many things, that I can't even name them, mostly because I can't remember them. I decided to ignore them all.

I feel like I can never express who I really am. They don't even know who I am, or what I like. They won't let me dye my hair, or wear the clothes that I want, or watch the shows that I want most of the time. It's really starting to hurt me.

My dad said to me earlier today, and last night that I can't do what I want until I'm 18, and hell, I can't wait. I don't wanna wait. I'm not fully happy where I am right now. The only time I feel a tint of happiness is when I'm with my friends and, surprisingly, at school.

I'm afraid to be myself at home, and I shouldn't be. I don't even think I can call this place my home. I shouldn't be afraid of anything here...

I'm sorry I rambled on, but I really needed to get this out. I talked to my best friend about this today, but she didn't fully understand. She does know my situation though, and how I've been feeling.

ANYEAY. Thank you so much for reading. It means so much to me, like you wouldn't believe. I always look forward to see who voted, or who wrote a comment. I may not respond to 90% of them, but I always enjoy reading them.

I love you guys so much. Until next time.

-Dawn.