A Handful Of Moments You Wish You Could Change (Patrick Stump Imagine Story)

Everything Is Wrong With Me

Author's Note: Hi guys! I just want to thank everyone who read the random imagine "I Give Up" and the rant at the end, some of you even giving me some advice. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it =D You guys are seriously the best and I'm so glad to have you as readers. Thank you all so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter! -Rachael

You walk through the front door and shut it behind you, making your way into the kitchen with the mail in hand and setting the letters down on the island. You snatch a glass from the cupboard and start to fill it with water from the refrigerator when you realize that the house is quiet, too quiet.

"Is anyone home?" You shout, setting the cup of water down on the countertop and walking back out to the foyer. You swing around the banister and go upstairs, checking the rooms for any signs of your family, but to no avail.

"Where is everybody?" You mutter under your breath as you make your way back downstairs.

Just as you reach the bottom step, the front door opens and Patrick and Gabby walk in, laughing their heads off. Patrick meets your gaze and smiles, "Oh hey, (Y/N)."

"Hi, Patrick," You reply uneasily, taking the last step down, "Where were you?"

"Oh, I just took Gabby out for ice cream while you were gone," He tousles his daughter's hair as she glances up at him, a wide smile stretched across her face. "I hope you don't mind."

You cross your arms, "No, I don't mind at all. But...where's Ethan?"

Patrick shrugs his shoulders, "I don't know. He left the house shortly after you did."

"Do you know where he went?" He shakes his head no. "What!?!" You scream at him, smacking him on the arm.

"Ouch!" He cries, grabbing his arm with his opposite hand.

"You let him just walk out of the house without telling you where he was going!?!" You yell angrily, throwing your hand in the direction of the front door for added effect.

Patrick stares at you at a loss for words. "(Y/N), I-I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"You didn't what?" You cut him short from his explanation that was inevitably going to last forever.

"I didn't think it was necessary," He murmurs.

"You didn't think it was necessary!?!" You repeat in disbelief, "How fucking stupid are you!"

"Stop fighting!" Gabby cries, distracting you and Patrick and bringing your attention down to her. Her hands are clenched tightly into fists by her sides and her face is bright red. "I don't like it when you guys fight!"

"We're not fighting, Gab-" Patrick begins to retort when she interrupts him.

"I know what fighting is when I see it, Daddy, I'm not stupid," She tells him sassily before turning to you and saying, "And you're not just speaking very loudly." She pushes past you and runs upstairs, leaving you and Patrick alone in the foyer. You smack your forehead.

"And you wonder why I'm depressed," Patrick mumbles under his breath, walking into the kitchen.

You drag your hands down your face and drop them to your sides, following Patrick. He's skimming through the mail you brought in.

"I just don't understand why you would allow our fourteen year old son to walk out the front door without telling you where he was going or when he'd be coming back!" You continue your argument, "That's just so irresponsible of you!"

He slams the mail down on the counter and turns around to face you, crossing his arms his chest, "Yes, that was so irresponsible of me, (Y/N). I should've known better than to let my mature fourteen year old son - who I have no reason not to trust - leave the house without notifying me about where he was going, who he was hanging out with, if he had his cellphone with him, if he had identification on him, and when he would be coming home." He counts them on his fingers, "Because for all we know, he could be dead right now and we wouldn't know because I didn't interrogate the shit out of him for walking out the front door, and I would never be able to live with myself if something like that were to happen."

You shake your head, disgusted with Patrick's response, "You think you're funny?"

"I was trying to be," He snarls, crossing his arms.

You fight back the tears that want to stream down your cheeks as anger boils up inside of you, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Everything!" He shouts, "Everything is wrong with me, (Y/N)! My kids don't want me around, my relationship with you is going to hell, and the band wants to break up again!" Your eyes grow wide as he heaves a sigh, calming down ever so slightly, "Yeah. The band wants to break up. They told me after the last concert that things aren't working out anymore, that it's just not the same it used to be. But I know they were just trying to make me feel better. I know it's because they don't want to work with me anymore. Who would? I've been an asshole to everyone, even I'm starting to hate me." He hangs his head as he too tries to hold back tears he doesn't want to shed in front of you. "My whole life is collapsing around me, (Y/N), and I can't piece it back together. There's just too many pieces and not enough glue." Patrick covers his face with his hands as his back begins to shake.

You frown and walk over to him, pulling him into a hug. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, sobbing into your shoulder.

Over Patrick's sobs and sniffles, you hear the front door click open behind you. You look over and watch as Ethan disappear upstairs.

You heave a sigh, continuing to rub Patrick's back comfortingly as he breaks down in your arms.

"I don't know what to do, (Y/N)," Patrick cries, "I don't know what to do..."

"We'll figure something out," You tell him reassuringly, "I promise."